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They're All Bleepin' Poets, Jack

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Occasionally I will pick up a quarterly— As a budding poet, to do what I oughterly, And peruse the pages for helpful examples That I can crib or use as samples.

The People

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living in the cross current lawn-care worlds don't give a whit about the so called deeper things. They don't have to scrape and you can't make them go to the river to see a sunset. They've got all their bonafide luxuries in a smart little…

Spain

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Where scenery is property and time is a straight edge; where the clouds are billowed and still; where one sees a tinfoil ocean and perspective to the east; where the static waves begin to move; where an immobile sky rustles and kneels. Our eyes looking still are the…

That Dark Spot

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A week ago, Lina had felt a pain crack over her right eyebrow. It was there every day, creeping from her ear to the middle of her forehead.

77 Words About Saturday

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Another Saturday in April. Another set of scars.

Bougainvillea

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Marcel Proust ran about the grounds chasing an itinerant tennis ball and kissing the guests, his huge testicles sweeping the lawn.

Clockwork

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At any moment, she'll come outside to pick up the day’s newspaper. He can see it resting beneath the blooming crape myrtle, its plastic wrapper glistening with dew.

The Poem

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Riding in a pick-up-truck, the radio wailing some 'love em and leave em" country song,

Misanthropy in an Age of Propaganda

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We have become// the sum of our appetites,/ the growth curve of our dominion.

IT CAN, IT CAN, IT CAN

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A man jumped off the High Level Bridge this morning.

Butterfly Man

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Now it was black line, wall, turn, and black line.

..maybe it was the fish I had for lunch

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1 col 24 point heading here

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I had ink for blood then and “the news” was my oxygen.

Broken

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I rang the doorbell. Claire opened the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I opened my arms to give her a big hug. She stiffened and pulled away. Stunned, my lips parted, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say. Ideal, Phillis. ”Broken”, Pure

Like Worship

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The bartender keeps asking what you smell and you say: lemons, oak, and pear. I smell lust. We move to the reds. Pinot Noir. Cabernet Sauvignon. Port.

The Giver and The Gone

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They were once a crown,of some living stag -- not quite old,not quite young: now bone. Something at the cusp of its age. Here they stand, given by a loved friendon a place in my home; smelling, whenI get very close, of time. They are shaped like small…

Maze of Sound

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Beneath the crosshatch gazes of the satellites and above the maze of sound, seahorse clouds exhale a glaucoma haze before they are absorbed into surveillance footage

In the Pink Distance

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in the pink distance / a boy in a corduroy shirt / sits before an upended electrical spindle / and drinks a vodka gimlet

Almost There

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On the phone I asked my mother how she was doing. “I’m getting old,” she said. “Going slow. But getting there. I’m ninety-four!” My mother was always 94, when she was really 93. I remember she was 93 right after she turned 92. And 92

Bus Ride Through SF

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Bud Light, B. O. and Freeloader Heaven, they step onto the back of the bus without a cent We pass by the Karma Wash but no one gets off the bus We pass by the Endless Soup and Salad Kitchen where we witness a crowd swarming over a ch

Things Like This

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I'm an older guy. She is still quite young. I tell her I may be too old but she giggles and tells me that she did the research and it said because there is snow on the roof doesn't mean no fire's in the stove. She proved it. Things like this. We excite ourselves,…

Firefly

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Smiling at stones and chunks of earth pounding in...

6 Thoughts on Love

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“Careful of the shells,” yousaid. I wanted to tasteyour white, and makea table of your midriff. Georgia's just aplace withso little, butan island nevertheless. Sky's a thing weseem to be, when thelight focuses on…

" I Know Bernie, I Can Get You In."

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* Dedicated to Bernie MaddoffThere was a long line at the men's room.You know,when men reach a certain age,there is an urgencyto their frequent trips.So I saw an opportunityI said:" I know Bernie I can get you in.""Really?," they saidbut I played it coy"It ain't easyBernie…

Role

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The pieces of bread dipped us humans in cheese, the cheese made by cows from our milk.

Locked in a Small-Town Cage with My Superheroes, and Having No Way to Get an MFA... (Memoir)

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...I grew up in a provincial town which at the time had no bookstore and no library — no library even at school...

Going Right At Left

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Wishes are like beautiful fishing lines Pulled tightly around us. My lungs are Full of them I suppose, hopelessly caught On something rough and deep in all the darkened places. Your smile for Me was one of those, if you must know. This swung…

Whenever I am

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alone and soaring in your eyesanother new journey for mebegins; my lifewants to make sense ofitself only for you, goingdeeper, hand youthe keys to that kingdom'srare maps and say,here,"fly, dream, fall to love'slake." You deserve it all.I swear…

We of the Paper-doll Brigade Are Not Hiding Our True Selves Anymore, A FaceBook Flash

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I am confused by your new paper-doll look, btw. Could you please look regular again by Thursday?

It Always Comes So Close & Then Disappears

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It's all down to you. To every new morning's baby crying. Down to your blank notebook, all sides opening at once, hands like an ocean of birds.You standing there looking back at me from behind your chosen wall of love's newly made flesh. Your smile like blood…