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Die for the sunset

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You say very little when all is ready, the coffee and all, and afterward, during the ride, and even less as suddenly thirteen women pile in.

Hell and back...

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Sarge had done this before. Not with this many rookies and not on a one-way trip. This was a suicide mission. The boys didn't know it, but he did. They weren't coming back. Hell, they couldn't come back

Books

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'Like poems,’ I said she paused and nodded her black mop.

Nexxus Products Company

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I think fat will just appear, like a narcotics cop at my door, or something.

Moon Boy's Love

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Moon Boy sits atop the hill's crest and watches Moon Girl.

Job Interview

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Coming down the stairs, you didn’t see me at all. I watched you lumbering closely. I wondered what they’d done to you to make you move this way.

Substitute

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He wiped it with a damp cloth. He set it in a glazed clay pot next to the sofa and admired its scrawny handsomeness.

Silent Night

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The church of the self.

Nobody Steps Forward

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I can only see their eyes in the dark, reflected in the light from my flashlight. It's so quiet. I only hear the sound of my own breath. I hold the flashlight steady. Maybe they will think I'm not a threat if I'm not moving. It's a small hope. Yet here we are, at a…

Sometimes the bear eats you...

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...something darkly malevolent looming above him...

Deer People

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There was no provision for keeping the post on the door, but I did not have the fingernails to pry it off.

London Fog

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I stumbled out of the Ten Bells pub, still a bit tipsy from the absinthe, but had a clear vision of what I wanted to have happen this night. The air was cold on my rosy cheeks, so I shielded my face…

Smoker

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I inhale the smoke from a burning cigarette held between two stained fingers that are not mine.

Men Will Always Thirst

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IA prophetic mile from the towering hill,tombs of ages lie.I open my eyes; I am stillin hieroglyph dreams of histories,nearby moans the sea, cold as usual, consecrated.Something created, destroyed,then in shadow, remade. The shore spouts forthold silence,…

The Room of Doors

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"Which way ought we to go from here," he asked. She smiled again, "that all depends on where we want to get to." He nodded but didn't laugh so she sighed and strolled around the room, tuning and looking and considering her options.

Quantum Mechanics

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It seems a little solipsistic/ but may indeed be evidence of God// given its mystery and caprice.

Wolf - Variation 5

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his eyes see blood as circumstance.

Classic

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"I love you.”“Night.”Back at the screen door she answers “What?” I stand under her nose and say “Box is out of juice.” Inside she sits me on the black and white polka-dotted sofa we make love around here and there.…

Cleopatra Goes Shopping

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Cleopatra fills her cart with food and cosmetics until it is overflowing. She proceeds out of the store. The clerks stop running products over their scanners and gaze in incredulity, and confusion.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 74: Coda

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It was the first warm day of a late-arriving spring. Ben was sitting in his divorce lawyer’s office on Maiden Lane in lower Manhattan.

The Oscillating Escalator (Excerpt), 2011

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We can imagine an escalator as being a (conveyor) belt between two different states of consciousness. On the one hand (beginning or end, depending on how you see it) the lower (or higher) level, and on the other hand a progression or pro-‘motion’ of the f

gravelortian part 17

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Biting off your own tongueBlistering boils, stumps of burnt hairChopping your hand off with a dull axeDrowning in a swimming pool of blood and pissDrinking dog puke from a brown paper bagEating the intestines of your uncle three months deadFalling into barbwire covered…

Mariposa

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My father pressed on,/ deliberate and calm,/ waiting for the ambulance

Root in a Bottle

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He had expected more -- at least his grandfather's classic Packard touring car.

Letters from the Aslyum (2)

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Leo, leo, leo, leo, the word itself imprinted on my brain, carved with a pearl handled blade into my cerebral cortex, into the medulla, burrowed deep into my dreams, I miss your kissing.

But the Heart Loves Chaos

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The mind likes logic, but the heart loves chaos. The light is always on in Reality, isn’t it? Maybe I sought you out to make sense of my life, I don’t know. Maybe I wanted some sense that you were still how I remembered you (at least a little of you tha

TWEET for H #MELVILLE & W #FAULKNER (a poem)

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#ShortStory #writers are failed #poets...

The Statue of a Writer

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As I sat down finally, finally to write, some brooding heretical hour of the night, with my ballpoint in hand, poised to blot page, Time gathered momentum, although I did not age...

The Knife Edge

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Max understood this perfectly and could easily picture the slow-motion buckling of the spars and the accordion collapse of the fuselage as the propeller blades’ churned up the ground.

PINHEAD

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He grew up needing an enemy, his class warfare instincts kindled by the death of his father in the labor dispute and bolstered by the readings of Steinbeck, Lawrence, Sinclair and others, and the college-bound students who were particularly bothered by Pi