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LLC

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The formula is fucked.

The Funeral

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Over the years, Morgana had grown. She was so much more than what Xavier remembered. So much different. She had an astute, almost shrewd air about her. She didn't seem nearly as fragile as he had left her. No, she had an eye out for herself now.…

Tiny Breaths

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Fire and ice undo me. I am born again, born again through the burning ice and biting flame. Listlessly floating cinder-like on lost cusps of wind that multiply with every with every single with every single breath. Spitfire grail and…

Sidewalk Opera

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She is left feeling like she has missed a stop, that she's at the last stop, that she's somewhere she wasn't meant to be.

Another Band Name

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Hillary's Pantsuits

“Adrien Brody,” Adrien Brody, and Adrien Brody’s Nose: A Response to Tao Lin’s Response to “Tumblr ‘Shit-Talking’”

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Here is “Adrien Brody” through a Freudian lens: Calloway wanted to fuck her father. She flew to New York City to fuck a version of her father who has a name similar to an actor with an interesting nose and a lot of talent. Neither Calloway nor the actor n

Village of Humans

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It must have been then and in those days and during that time when the grass and short brush, like so much amber and jade, emerged from the snow and the poet Li Po, who while traveling within the ten thousand crags of the Tanggula Mountains, looked up…

Angel 1508

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When bees die they die with their wings straight out They die of natural causes and their tiny bodies are bent as though landing on a flower Their wings seem too big for them and they lie scattered about the floor, tilted in dead p

Winter's Presence 2010

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A short triangular plastic shovels into the/White plastic container filled with topaz crystal-like/Salt granulars. Scratchy sandy sounds echo.

Unintentional Hermits/ Animal Cities- The Helper

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So this was how it started. The next day Kia returned to sit with him a bit and the next day and the day after that until the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months. Eventually she found out his name was Saul, that he had no 'proper' job, was o

She Came to Me

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I liked her when I first saw herShe came to meI liked her hair and body and eyesBu there was something wrong with Her teethScarred beautyI hit it off with her easily at the barThe others didn't like herShe was a cookShe told me about her narcolepsy, ADHD, Tourettes…

The Martyr

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She sees her mother the Sunday after Zoe discovered her seven-week-old creation, like a chewed gingerbread man with red icing, in the toilet bowl beneath her.

Love-sad

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Then there she is, and she makes me love-sad; it's a vehement, absolute, hard love-sad no one else needs to understand, though they can see; it's an emotion so concrete it's felt from the chest, not from a tenuous concept called heart.

One Night Stand Before Finals

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There was one girl from Ireland, with her thick Irish brogue, who came into my bedroom early on the morning before my final exam for my Master’s degree in the writing program at U.C Irvine. She knew I was so nervous about taking the exam that I hadn’t sle

Bright Red

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They shoveled coal into the furnace of the city so the ghosts would be warm for their haunting.

I Don't Know What This is About, But.

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Bent, crooked and straight, knifed.

Pacific

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this orient tide come occident: this roll of wreck and reckoned eyes that fathomless are found or made to find her keep within the tight shut shell in soundings deeper than the plumblined soul these western waves gone east: these…

Snark

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His Danger Pistol was out of bullets, his Bag of Tricks was empty, and he wasted his last can of Antimatter back at the lab. All he had was his Charm and his wits. Charm wouldn't last forever, and he'd always come up a little short in the wits department.

THE BOATMAN OF THE BADLANDS

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A 20-footer up on skids sky-blue paint beneath the bondo

Panthera pardus

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A cruel panther gets its prey.

The Exhibit

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She had written down Bailey’s new address even though she knew that he could not stay in the same place for more than six months.

Mark Twain's Typewriter

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Did I refer to Mark Twain’s typewriter as an animal? Did I call it a hyena? I would not say that about Mark Twain’s typewriter.

The Lot

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The inhabitants of the surrounding neighborhood steered clear of the Lot, mindful of its existence, its countless drags of scrap, drenched with the fused association of many scenes and emotions from memory and experience. Left to its own devices, the place is now…

Quay 19

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Through by the sands and the rocks we were going and the lake liquid had tumbled the stones by the thousands so that while the water was still we could see agates and yellow jaspers and other or even the odd and misspent piece of rounded glass green or white safe…

More Bands Than You Can Shake a Stick At

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Bands: Free Blankie My First Dustbuster Sledge Hammer Glove Compartment Hot Weather Lady Cattle Prod and the Punks The Cowpokes Poker Two Fingers In Occupy This Tidy Up Goal Keeper and The Kneecaps Leslie Sweet And The Kitchen

Lobster's Alive

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Oh, no! the lobster’s still alive staring out at us from the freezer at the fish shop sitting on top of the other dead fish and ice its large claws taped shut with orange rubber bands one eye stalk moving occasionally wonde

Wolves at the Door

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“Little Pig, Little Pig, Let me in.” One of them yelled out from behind the door. The wolves always loved to taunt him, itched for any chance they could get to fight.

If I Was A Bum

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If I was a bum I’d risk everything for a drink or a smoke I would beg and curse and steal if I was a bum If I was a bum I would cuss out the Pope I would not vote for anyone because I would know truly they’d be telling gross lies

Optimism

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I paused in case she said more. Then, “He’s very faint but he wants to talk.” She leaned forward, chin almost resting on the grey-haired woman in front of her. “Tell him to shout.”

Sticky Wants to Grab

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I’ll bring the naproxen sodium so we won’t have any problem grabbing things.