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Lancelot Meets Goya Meets Cortázar Meets Mowat

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to say that he was doing fine

All About the Tumor

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Stupidity is not a mask; it is the face / and it is the face that betrays us / always.

Mortality

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The list of things to live for/ shortens with age. The list of regrets/ lengthens.

I fall out of love, learn not to worry, and get ready to embrace the foreign war...

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Love hurts... Really.

Tchotchkes

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Each little token is the world/ as you knew it at each time and place

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Girl with glasses and skinny fingers playing with wires

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Maybe it takes as much fortitude To forget As it does To remember.

Get Me to the Church on Time

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In my upper room, a sermon/ was playing about sundry.

The Glass

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Not only half-full/ but stress-fractured

For Carol: Life Bursts Out

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Life was small. It was tiny even, so tiny it was hard to see it sometimes. Life curled up to make itself even smaller, to fit into the kinds of holes that insects crawl into to get away from bigger insects. Life was sad. Life didn't want to be an insect.

GOT

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I don't know how long I was down on the curb. When I came around it took several minutes to realize that it wasn't the moon overhead at all but a street light and the sticky feeling stuff I was lying in was, yeah, my blood. And the hand on my shoulder wasn't hers. I…

Sign of the Times

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As I go by I see five, six high school kids standing on the corner waiting for the bus. They are huddled together like a bunch of ducks....

Petunias

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People huddle in their basements like kittens. People laugh, darkly, saying they'd rather be surfing. People wonder if their batteries are charged. People never do get what they want. People grow tired of the sad dog following them around. People want you to know how…

Everybody Needs a Soul

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They are running the bulls in Pamplona this afternoon and they have no idea how to do this and they are way too old for this and they want to relive their youth and run the bulls in Pamplona They want to drink like Ernest Hemingway and run

Amy-Loyd Plax

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When I no longer know you, what signal will you give to remind me that you and I once loved?

falling

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I arrange my stones in circles

Stroke One, Stroke Two, Stroke Three

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On Monday, May 7, 2018, at the age of 67, I had a stroke.

The Man From the Circus

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‘Last week,’ I said, ‘on the radio, there was a competition. The DJ played a sound-bite of a car going over a cattle grid, and people had to phone in to guess which cattle grid it was. I didn’t phone in, but I knew the answer.’

Star Heart

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This is the place I could find my breath. I didn'tSay I understood it. I only wanted to hold someone andMeant to. I don't care about the rules for caring.This place where I could speak was incredibly far from Where I'd once met you. The place where I could…

Table Thoughts

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“You should've let him drown,” she once told me. Doesn't she see that I did? I'll let her drown, too.

the cold the day left

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in our teens as tough as the cold/we wore denim and flannel with our boots/kicking at whichever wind blew . . .

Somewhere

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...but still, when she whispers that going out now might put her in the mood later he unties from his mooring and sets them both drifting toward the gin-splintered latitudes

Amends

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We met in graduate school. We were both taking a course on teaching using the case study method over at the Business School. I was from psychology. She was from biology. We were both getting Harvard doctorates. But as many people…

Hitting the Wall

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I tried to talk, but only / whispers slithered out.

A Night at the Opera

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I picked out a book to read on the airplane. The title was The Function of the Orgasm by Wilhelm Reich.

Glass

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Her bulldozer of a husband died five years ago.

the ethics of graffiti

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Honey

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Cellulite is legal to have, either way.

WHAT WE REMEMBER MAY NOT REMEMBER US

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1. The clouds and the shadows of the clouds. The early light, like the night undressing herself revealing pink beneath, underneath the glory and the intimacy like early love made of arms only arms fingers and…

Rice

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We construct a paper bridge. The droid walks across it. We follow, one after another, like sentences in a story.