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the way we fit...alchemy

scraps

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i’m trying to remember don’t all the best apples happen in September?

not Baudelaire's “Beauté”

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I charm as any stone-sculpted dream: / men grind themselves to dust on my breasts / in solitude poets spill and spew / enraptured of my adamant clay.

Twilight, Nov. 07, 05:50am

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Light spreads its way across the sky like a drop of inkon dry cotton sheets:starts at one point and expandsas wind shufflesover bodies, seashoist your sailsand I'll throw this oneoverthe night can have itnowhear the waveshow they seem satisfiedwith their…

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We bobbed and weaved using our words like the sniffs of two unfamiliar dogs in a Wal-mart parking lot. Wary, but sensing we could be more than just polite neighbors, once we got past the normal darkness of strangers. There was no plot to our story yet, but we both seemed to…

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But although her culinary plans are running smoothly, my mother’s mood is lethal. Look closely and you can see thin plumes of smoke escaping from her mouth and the tips of two horns peeping between the rollers on top of her head. This is not uncommon for

That Painted Up Whore

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Some things stay with you. I got off the bus, petted my dog, Nick and walked in our house and saw Mother at the kitchen table, crying and clearly angry. I asked her if she was sick. She works. She said that she didn't go to work today and might not go tomorrow…

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Love, Mortar

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My love for you is like a brick. It sits silent in me when you bring out my food at the Dine and Dart, red tray aloft, your skin gleaming like grilled onions. My love is rough around the edges but solid through the center, fresh from the kiln. My love for you is…

just like James Taylor

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tell me about the time you lived in Carolina, and what my smile does for you.

Open Orchidae

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But Jana insisted to see this miracle, this antidote for the mundanity of existence.

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These are the small miracles we witness from my barrio stoop.

Fragment from an Unwritten Diary

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It's not stories the quiet lack, but inclination...

Abstraction Is the Background of Reality

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Written in big letters Across the back window Of an old Pontiac:

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Obituaries aren’t as much fun as they used to be.

Just One Sentence

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Blinking, Eleanor frowned at the words she’d uttered. They were absurd… foolish. Unequivocally unscientific, but beautiful nonetheless. The notion of the sunless hours embodied as a clumsy artist struck the student as interesting.

All About the Guns

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Been looking for guns. His guns have turned up missing. He’s been looking for the guns. Looking for guns. The au-pair must’ve snuck back in And took the guns. And the baby. The baby must be crawling off with Guns again.

Somebody Loves You

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When I look at the picture on my refrigerator, I always think the same thing: "Hitler was a baby once too, look how well he turned out."

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I walked on hot coals. She got ahead of me. (228 words)

Easy Rider

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She stood there with her back to me and her dress around her ankles.

Rope & Bone '86

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His shirts he hangs on the back of the chair, one on top the other so they won't wrinkle.

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I was more annoyed at the scream, the icy air around us and our eventual destination–his parents, the club, small talk, all that drunken insignia.

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Your brain was connected to your feet ...

This Story

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This story is falling head-first into a mud-puddle.

Breadfruit

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... we both know how we go to fresh air like fish, gasping.

Summer, 1966

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After my mother died, my father shipped me to my uncle's. He hadn't told me she was dying, so he could just mourn alone.Lena lived next door, Italian, my age -- which was ten -- beautiful. She was watched by goons in black suits. Her parents owned a restaurant. Across the…

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Crawl to the dark places I love most, loud music and off key laughter, glimmering green and brown bottles eagerly holding the dim lights overhead inside themselves like ransomed stars.

Wired

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He got up to the pulpit and said that he thought he might have made a mistake. I will never forget the desperate look on his face. He recalled being at his Ivy League school and wondering just what he was interested in upon his graduation and what would b

The Good Son

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They’ve deduced she’s still of sound mind and body. What do they know?