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Like Trial and (Also) like Error

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We sat all in a muffledlittle line up, on theconcrete lips of tomorrow'ssleepy chin, like all the world's good little children should, as the paradelimped itself slowly by, slapping itself against the young day'sexcitement like a damaged flattire, trying its…

Thursday

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Every Thursday, around 11 am, right after the cemetery where I work receives the daily shipment of cremated remains to be interred, a frail nonagenarian steps out of the driver's seat of his Lincoln Continental and walks, unassisted, up a flight of twenty granite steps,…

MOMENT

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It was a cruel question, coming on breath that stank of the grave.

Sorry to have missed you

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1. Allowance 2. Tooth fairy 3. JFK coin savings bank in clear plastic beveled skyscraper tower 4. Ben Franklin iron coin bank

Love Song Number 277

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Tell me how magnificent my mind is

Teacher

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Professor William Purcell, dean of the university's shrinking drama department. Fifty, tall and thin, always well dressed . . .

Growing older, uncomfortably

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Cafés just aren´t cool anymore unless they boast walls of exposed brick, pipes, half a chair nailed to the ceiling, mis-matched furniture back-breakingly uncomfortable.

Sounding

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Grey would rather be in the trees or down by the river. When a wind comes up, he grabs the wooly blanket from the hook in the barn and calls Phoebe. They stretch the blanket out between them and sail into the grassy meadow that slopes down the hill from t

Car Talk

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It had been Tom at the wharf who strode over to greet me, his friend Tom with the small spectacles standing at the bar. “Write it when you get home,” Bella said. I was wearing the same beads.

Live Sacrifice

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I don’t name the dog but the fish requires a name. Animals that do not get eaten must be named. The dog is still on the menu.

Speaking to the Dead

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I didn't hear your last words or see your lasteyes. I didn't reach you in time, so I sat by your corpse,silently saying goodbye. I am in that process,not sour, not sweet, that yoked speaking which can't(because the heart won't let it) utter its whisperedlast word, but…

astral ages

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Life in astral circles

In Brief

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I can admire Falling Water and find Mr. Wright a complete shit.

Arrivals and Departures

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Because of her I got there early, and like I figured, the train was late.

A Small Life in Slices

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It’s Sunday- no need to shave-/ but shave, I do. A little act// of discipline in the discipline/ of routine.

Father Dunne's School for Wayward Boys #4

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I approached him slowly. His voice was soft and raspy. He said, "Kneel down my son, I've been expecting you."

Polyester Purgatory

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They line the bar beside me. Talking about themselves and estranged children, while rubbing necks and wrists, searching for the pulse.

postcards from penelope

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fun fact: a doll's legs will twitch while being scalped but only for just a little bit

Two Writers play Modern Warfare

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I watch as my character falls lifelessly to the ground. I press the square button and I am instantly revived.

A Shadow on the Summer Sun

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Shadows are so admirable in film noir less so on x-rays and mammograms

Teleprompts

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In what appears to have been a coordinated, coast-to-coast attack, country clubs across America were attacked last night with firebombs and heavy contaminations of herbicides.

Coleridge on Urine

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What a beautiful Thing / Urine is

Memories

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I stomped up the steps clearing my shoes of snow. I was wearing my Rooskie fur hat with the ear flaps, and I kept it on when I went inside.

The Sitzer

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Fred, who by that point had already wanted to call Jimmy "Jim," talked a river. Jimmy, who had already called her Freddy, took a mojo bag from his back pants pocket and asked her to write something that he could put inside.

Antenna

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When I squint at her from across the table I can see the waveforms created by her carrier signal.

Midlife

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Even suffering all of these conditions, Louise considers herself one of the lucky ones, as she’s learned there are pills, drops, and creams for all of her problems.

Happy Columbus Day

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Oh to be young and vigorous.

The Duende

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Now he took his guitar in hand, and at once he felt a strange fiery sensation rise from the soles of his feet, to the palms of his hands, to the tips of his fingers: the Duende. It was that mystical force poets can sense, and no philosopher can explain.

The Days of The Olde Burying Yard

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“Phennias Jessup is his name. That’s his death’s head scroll, an hourglass, bats, spirals and angel’s wings on either side of the top part of the stone. "

Starry Night

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I invited Van Gogh over for some drinks and a chat. I'm talking about Vincent.