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An Indirection

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The bones are chilled now, past/ invigorations of the coming spring// and its entanglements

Frenchie at the Fair

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Frenchie hustled waffle irons.

White Bread

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Brian takes off his size eleven shoe and shakes it out on the table.

Eli

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Eli the dog cocks his head like a pistol; half cock, full cock.

Visiting You Without Her

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I bear the wrong gin. Your air conditioner runs cold. It is either frigid or off, the gauge broken. You are not too old to overlook these things. You can't be choosy, but you will never beg. Just an occasional choice as you settle into this…

Variation on a Variation of a Mode

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Borges must be so proud somewhere

Everything is Fine

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        The first one was dark and angular, coiled-looking inside an expensive suit.  Over her food at a small table in the hotel bar, Francesca had been unable to look at anything else but him.  Out of the suit, unsprung on a king-sized hotel bed, his skin…

Delayed Sentence (55 Word Story)

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The river waited for her patiently.

Why Aren’t There Fireflies

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There are hundreds of fireflies crackling along the tree line and the old stonewall.

Strange and Silent Hands

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I shuddered. This is how we are chosen by strange and silent hands.

Resurrecting Jonah

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"Baby, he turned gray and dead before he hit the floor".

The Galleries

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We invent our beauties// as we find them and engineer/ our horrors

3 Poems

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We have always been a trashy species./ We study ourselves by examining/ garbage-- a pile of mussel shells here,

The Widow and a Portrait of Jesus in Grayson's Nursing Home

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He'd hung above her head for months.

Emily's Letter to her Husband's Lover

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I almost kept him on the shelf with all the trophies.

Feets You Fail Me

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San Bruno avenue, six shops in eight blocks. Those Vietnamese ladies thrive on the pedicure trade.

A Traitor of the Better Kind

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Go ahead, boy, pout like a fool.

4:45pm, Philadelphia

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He stays a couple of yards behind me as we slog uphill. I try to diffuse the tension with a coy toss of head, slip on wet leaves. My ankle rolls and I splat noisily down. From my new angle his beard looks less stylish—bristles straggle all up his neck. He maintains…

I Knew Her

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We met in the theater.

Purveyors of Leeches

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I am a purveyor of leeches. All my friends are purveyors of leeches. We meet weekly to compare our wares.

Helen O., Grand Central, 1959

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No snippet to see, here. The piece is so short a snippet would be the whole thing.

How to Have a Fulfilling Sexual Relationship with Your Own Parents (Part Two)

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Hi, I'm Harmony Korine. I esteem douchebags.

Bad Heart

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You died from a bad heart.

To Be Young and In Love

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We were in her boyfriend’s room in the middle of the night. I was seated on the bed, and she was on the carpet poking holes in his condoms. We were doing it in the dark, to prepare for any contingency. The room smelled like old laundry and body spray.

Snowsuit (from FATHER MUST)

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“I’ve been standing across the street for fifteen minutes. I was walking by and saw you weren’t moving. So I watched—you didn’t move at all.”

When Alone

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She'd sit out on the back deck and dig into the skin around her toenails with a paring knife until it bled. He'd listen to a single aria of Opera's Greatest Hits, number 10, until the cusp of some feeling, either despair or rage, would build and fade. Then he'd start…

Phantom Sister

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We wonder if this is how we tangled in our mother's womb: hands to feet to heart.

Fatuous Dialogue #1

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—Was it true, what you wrote in that poem? —Pretty true. —What do you mean “pretty true”? Was it true or wasn’t it? —It was as close as you get to truth in poems.

Lens

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Night fell and the photographer slept, one hand between Prue's legs.

Requiem for a Glass Heart

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The stone thrower lives in a glass house with his glass family. His neighbors often stop in front of his home and stare at the flesh and blood man as he goes about the business of living with his glass wife and glass child, their glass furniture and glass lives.Every…