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Sed-a-give

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The way she once felt for another, naked mornings in her bed, and Young Frankenstein. Sed-a-give.

Death

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Do you think we die when we age?Or when a car runs over our hearts?We die slowly, minute by minute, every secondBy the time you read this, you've died a little

Fin

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She doesn’t answer. Ten minutes slide by unmolested in the anesthesia of cheap wine and resignation, the bouncers blurring and unblurring, the room dimming, quieting, the kaleidoscope of sundown giving way to the gentle sadness of candlelight.

The Last Fly of Summer

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"...leafing through the SEBRING 100 WALLAMATIC record selector..."

Too Early, Too Late

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Things don't always go to plan. Gem knew what people would have said back then, of course. She wasn't stupid.

"Beautiful Boy! I am doomed"

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Beautiful boy! I am doomed / to have attended your presence; / time consumes us, but you / have changed so little...

60 is the new 20

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I once saw a TV commercial that showed a group of Anglo retirees laughing around a card table. The slogan 60 is the new 20 floated beneath their fat, fun-loving heads. My parents are bona fide Baby Boomers. Their lives are build on credit and catchy…

Barnegat Bay

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I whispered, “I love you” and then, “Goodbye”

sunday morning lie-in

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i'm staying down here

A Nice Girl Is Like Powder

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A nice girl is like powder, quick to anger, fresh, impudent, too quick to know what expletives fate speaks. It was a cold year for trash talk and sheer silk. And yes, the fox was smoking, who could attract or irritate a nice girl with the same look, a wom

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Coda

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—Man, what a tearjerker way to end an interview, said Ben.

A Little Idea

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I have reasons to believe she’s been stealing.“ “Stealing what?” “Steaks.” “Steaks?”

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 53

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—Francesco, said Zambrano, rising from his desk and putting his arm around Frank's shoulder. You and me, we're business partners. Regular capital crime buddies.

These Gothy Days

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(haiku)

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 6

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Frank met Angelique Brody on the street in front of his building.

The Art of It

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To write a good poem, one needs nothing but the whole intent of goodness.

The Bad Bed, 2011

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Im in bed. Bed. I look at the word bed written on the screen. Bed. It looks like bad but not quite. Bed-Bad. Bad-Bed. I have a bad bed. Lets say my bed is bad. It is a bed to the extent that it is bad. It is not good, it is bad. It is a bad bed.

Hemera Rises

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The woods. They say don’t wander too far into the woods, where those ghosts can’t hear you and the moonlight won’t trace you a path. In the black crowd of trees there’s something waiting. Don’t go to the where the siren is singing...

The Nest

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I am reaching out at you, to you from the nest. From the nest, please come to the nest, to see me and to hear my life story. From the nest I go, and then I arrive at the nest, suddenly, just in time to be…

Visitation Hour

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She watches too much VH1 for a five-year-old.

Satellite Dish (from The New Yorker)

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Just as one thing I say is “Don’t worry about me,” one thing I think is that you love somebody by living with them...

The Blueberry Man

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It was a Thursday. That's when I found out about the blueberries. Those precious, round little wonders, now forever untouchable.I left the note on the ledge of the balcony, taped down so it wouldn't fly away.It was going to come to this, eventually. After…

Red Sky at Night

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Floating in liquor only to drown the next morning.

The barbarian at the gate, a work in progress

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I may even invite the little man, who lives in the closet, to come out and visit me: Come over here, pleasure me, let me sit on your pink latex face.

Catch & Release: Dog Person Depression

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Instead, I get things like, “Why can’t you find a nice man with cancer or a bum leg?”

Michael & The Reaper

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That sound. Bone against bone. Skin across skin. Blood fraying into the unknown dark. He loved that sound.

John on the 9th

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"Excuse me. I believe you have a little something falling from your right nostril there," he said, pointing with his pinky.

The World’s Food Shortage Problem is Solved with My Insect-Enlargement Gun!

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People of Earth, a better tomorrow has come. I’m near bursting with pleasure to report that the global community needn’t worry any longer about food shortages and famine and the like. Why? My patented insect-enlargement gun!

Gather Round

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When they first brought me home, I was their pride and joy. Then, one day, they put me in this wooden box.

Gastro Ad Astra

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He had a simple dream: He wanted to become a star, and not one of those tv stars because those die, those die all the time, and before dying they usually become terrible shadows of their former selves, vile creatures who exploit their own former glory...