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I, TOO, DREAM....

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A dream that seems Impossible When fresh blood soaks the ground

Trope City

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If the pen travels over a sheet of paper, it is not long before a metaphor appears. A fast, beautiful metaphor like friendship, or deformity. Think of the pen as a penis and the ink as semen. I just sit and laugh. Time impregnates an opportunity and a lon

Maisie Dear

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Maisie dear, I can't forget her-- I only wish her poems were better.

Death Along the Jersey Rails

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like old discarded snake skin, dry and coarse after the bite... immortally tortured by broken glass bottles.

Marilyn, of NYC

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I remember another one night stand in NYC with a girl named Marilyn. We’d met up at Bread Loaf Writer’s Conference in Vermont. It was the Summer of Love, and a number of us student writers were planning a trip out to San Francisco to participate in that f

77 Words About Nothing [5-01-12]

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You looked innocent and I was the epitome of just that …

Google for giggles

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Why won’t my parakeet eat my diarrhea?

On Making Love

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He did many things for love: Once he placed his tongue in his boyfriend’s nostril during sex, because he seemed to have read in the internet that this was a “thing” among the younger of their social class...

Joking

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I don't care much for Joking, which is not to say that I don't care at all for Joking, just that I don't care much. I would say, if I had to say, that I care for Joking about as much as I care for a cousin, not a close cousin, one I have a genuine frien

The End of Fun and Games

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A procession of our somber youth— stoned and stunned and broken beyond repair—viewed the boy carved of putty. The mortician painted him stuffed him, presented him to us, the semi-living.

Cambridge Vignettes (from the 1960s)

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I wanted none of her. But also that day I had just finished The Story of 0., and my mind was full of sadistic whimsies and the mood of anythingness that the book instills: the pound of fleshness. Anyway, I sneered at her and told her she bored me, and sat

Everyone the Same, But Not At Once

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The surface temperature of the sun is 9,800 degrees Fahrenheit.

Greyhound

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Published in Exquisite CorpseI…

Possession: Notes for Zulawski

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Blood smeared in the hugging choke of her courtier. Our only recourse is to confront life with the benefits of a choke. “Please, don't make me force you.” Should misery be a reassurance when love is destroyed? There are reasons: “My wife doesn't live with

Working things out in my head

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A shot in the dark and everything goes black. It's as if the story never happened.

The Officer Gets Breakfast

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The officer’s eggs and bacon rested on the asphalt amid shattered ceramic and boot heels.

Round And Round

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"GROW A PAIR AND DRIVE! DRIVE!!"

Vera's Nemesis

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The dog was there before Vera was there, so she supposed she couldn't hate it too much. It wasn't like she had to live with the thing, either, though she might as well have hosted it in her ear for the eight months it took that particular batch of neighbo

The Sound of Paper

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From the earth it erupts Growing longer, stronger, as the sun rises and sets Days and nights pass, bringing the wind, the rain, the moon, the stars A place of shelter it becomes

We're all Mad here. I'm Mad. You're Mad!

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She heard the quick footsteps and knew where they were headed. Running down the hall she knew she “only had 1 hour left and there was no time to waste”.

CONFESSIONS OF A TWISTED GENIUS

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Surely someone as clever as I can hatch a plan that will make them pay for rejecting me. Ignoring my genius has a cost and they will pay the price.

Bukowski in Hollywood and the Collating Party at his Apartment

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They called him Hank. We piled in a car and drove up from Irvine to his little bungalow apartment on DeLongpre near Hollywood Blvd. for a collating party for this Mag he started with Neely called “Laugh Literary and Man the Humping Guns.” No shit, that wa

What Do You Mean, You Don't Sell Pigs Feet?

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“Excuse me–where are the pig’s feet?”

On Senior Prom & Being Profoundly Unpleasant

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When I was in high school, we had a prom. The juniors were paired with the seniors; and when I was a senior, I recall meeting my date for the first time. You can imagine she was not enthralled.

How To Give Dating Advice as a State Social Worker

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I tell him if he wants to impress a girl he should learn to cook. He shifts his body. I add, crab cakes work well.

#2 Feeding Fire (Poetry)

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It is like truth on the battle field. Muted

Revenge poem for Sara, following her disparaging remarks about my unfamiliarity with the literary history of the East Coast

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In distant climes ’cross landlocked plains, where history digs still-shallow roots, From masonry a statue looms And in her arms gay pigeons roost.

A Day at the Fair

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“You just missed that last time,” the carney was saying as Sue Ellen walked up. “Give it one more try and I’ll bet you get your girl a big teddy bear. C’mon.”

Arcana Magi Zero Arc 3 - c.4

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Alysia stretched her left hand out at Kurai, and the electricity connected with her fingertips like beacon.

Winter Fire

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Snow is falling like ashes. I know they're hot and cold. One leaves black streaks on my cheeks, the other tears. Maybe the ashes were falling with the snow, not enough water to put out the fire, just to stir the embers. If you screamed I couldn't…