1759 15 11
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It could as well be late night infomercials/
saturating the screen//
with medieval looking exercise machines
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1459 12 11
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1223 13 11
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Ah, how sweet is forbidden fruit, how delicious undiscovered sin!
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1648 24 10
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One sunny morning, a big-bellied ball of yellow fur surveyed a yard full of prospective adopters and ran straight to one.
She’d been chosen.
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1817 23 10
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The knife that precedes the bigger knife that precedes the spoon that precedes the flat fork, with stuff like that I'm all butterfingers, & even though he's never been to Italy except once to shoot a gun when the world was a great big jumble, he remembers all…
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1033 13 9
|
There's a witch in Laurel Canyon.She made Wes a promise.Her bungalow smelled like Parliaments. Parliaments, garlic frying in olive oil. Parliaments, garlic frying in olive, and a freshly opened pack of Red Vines. Wes could have curled up into a ball and fallen asleep on her…
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1681 12 11
|
Save the whales. Save the dolphins. Save the bored housewives. Save my hands, so often cupped over the sorrow in being alive. Save the beautiful made-up cherries of delight I feel everywhere in your presence. Save the sprawling…
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1286 13 11
|
My books wound you. They wound me / too.
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1118 20 11
|
There was a form to it, not reproduction. I wanted to write Moby Dick without a man in it. [I wanted to write Moby Dick with only a woman in it.] But I didn't do it. It's like a seven-year diary, and it did happen. I might write it as memory then.
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1931 23 10
|
Our house was big, red brick, with off-white walls that watched over us while we slept, while we prayed for our souls to be kept, while we shared bath water and bunk beds and the secret of the back closet we will die with and never reveal.
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1209 17 10
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Another new spring and the leaves
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1298 13 11
|
Enough, Trump. We've had it my dear, with your pink ties, your hairs, your swagger, your towers, your money, tempers, walls, bombs, smarts, snarls, pouts and doubts, bigotty bile, and once again, style. We just…
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1938 11 7
|
We all build portraits, meaning we all try to encapsulate and thus punctuate time. Why? Because, who among us can swallow eternity whole?
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2091 20 8
|
Writers, hopeful ones, hopeless ones, poets and petty penmen, worked as bartenders, librarians, substitute teachers, anything.
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1943 5 8
|
But you know what? You give yourself a fall back plan, you fall back. Not me. I am shooting for the stars and rising high. Next week, I start filming my first feature film. I get to play Tommy Lee Jones’ sexy little stepdaughter. Me and Tommy are g
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900 16 10
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786 14 11
|
I. The sun's corona. Empty boxes near the firehouse. Red birth. A bird's lost wing. II. The bitterness of littleness. Apples in a pile.Early love.A spider, swinging. III. A father's harshness.Twelve bills unpaid. Leaves in a crevice. A dream…
|
1099 18 9
|
They left me on a gurney for hours...
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1115 19 11
|
Culture gives what it feels you deserve/
in the cul-de-sac of your time and place.
|
1676 22 8
|
"Ha ha!" I said triumphantly, "I've got some left and you don't!"
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1571 14 11
|
Her husband wouldn’t let her call an exterminator. That doesn't work, he said. The real reason he said no was that he was cheap.
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1667 14 11
|
She'd liked the name of the tanker. The Amoco Cadiz.
|
1530 13 10
|
sacred ground bleached with the salt of bitter tears
|
1626 10 11
|
the brand we like best and buy whether it's on sale or not. Surely there is another blue cheese dressing that is sold, possibly in San Francisco and made in a Berkeley basement by hippies who scrape together all of their change twice a year and buy cheese from an ancient…
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1618 11 12
|
...even unbelieving prayer
muttered with quiet resigned breaths
can not foretell or forestall stains...
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1782 12 11
|
Mick Jagger and I strolled rue Gabrielle in Montmartre. Our conversation spread from apples to shellfish. We stopped for some oysters. Do you remember a time when books were venerated, I asked? I remember a time, he said, when rock and roll was a fetus in the tank of…
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1817 14 9
|
She doesn't even know who wears the Adam's apple in this house.
|
1334 12 11
|
It is almost as if there isn’t a wedge of wood between us – I can feel him inches away from me. I can’t control the sigh or the tears that escape my body.
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802 15 11
|
My father taught me how to solder and that's when I first started to write. Now, when you hold the soldering iron in your hand and depress the trigger, the tip of the gun heats up. Novices uncoil the solder and place it on the hot tip, but that just results in it…
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950 13 12
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