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Query

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The murder of two teens late one humid night on a tiny rural Virginia island brings a dark, malignant mystery edging into the village known as Leicester Court House.

Brief Studies of Doomed Females

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She is unsure if it will work, despite all her reading of physics and flying carpets and propeller planes. The practicalities of aerodynamics in application remain to be tested.

Cousin

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“The beginning was good. That’s what he likes. The moment when you’re driving in the open air and your hair is flying and your skirt is whipping up around your knees, and he’s smoking, of all things, and happy and looking at you."

Losses

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Each day, I lose more words-/ nouns and verbs- but especially// proper names. People and places

Linear A

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let’s press our words into the clay/ in language so completely dead/ we have to re-imagine it.

My Man Wears Cherry Pants

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My man wears chartreuse shoes.! He wears chartreuse shoes like a new king right there on Main St.!

The Haunting

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the ugliness will not be denied

From the discovery of fire to a crypt slash restaurant

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The Boy I Didn't Grow Up With

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I don't remember much before my brother moved out, but one thing that stands out in my mind was the bathroom we shared. He'd pull a stool up to…

Kimchi Hatchet

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“You’re not Jesus"

Political Poem

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As if to ask if I'm okay, as if to ask aren't we the same two on this wet December morning as ever, as yesterday, a month ago even, she shoots me a look as I stand by the bed, then her sane mild brown eyes…

Late November

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“I found a recipe on the net and now my hair smells of pumpkin.”

Filter

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The brain taints everything it brings to us/ with its limited apparatus, its precepts,// all the things it thinks it knows.

Maine

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A constellation appears in the shape of Van Gogh’s missing ear.

Parrot

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"Your mother does sailors," the parrot screeched.

Rebuttal From My Vagina

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Dear Erin,And people call ME a pussy. Fuck you,The Cunt

Every Woman Adores a Fascist

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We liked the orderly Newtonian/ with its fundamentalist action/ and reaction, its rules

Gunplay

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It was when the party hit a lull and a woman wearing too much rouge was going on about her parakeets that Tom decided to set down his bourbon glass and pull out his gun.

Cactus Subconscious

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The voice in the sand: "If it has soul you must funk it."

Not Lao-tzu's Yellow Brick Road, i - xvi

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the Way that can be mapped leads nowhere.

Towards the End of Memory

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This will be the century of infinite sadness,/ sadder even than the Twentieth/ with its expansive catalog of horrors.

Take Back the Night

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A woman who is, say, a culinary arts champion or an heiress devoted to literature such as Bryher (Annie Winifred Ellerman) or Peggy Guggenheim might be able to turn me on, turn me out, turn me around.

SYCAMORE STREET MORNING

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"S- E- X -- ever heard of it?"

The Best Interest of the Child

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He was here and then he was gone. He wasn't at my ex-wife's house either. On Tuesday we were at the circus and that's the last I saw him. I jumped into my '68 Beetle, one step above a clown car, and I stopped by The Big Top. The carnies were there, smoking cigarettes and…

Fractional

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Fine gradations of the fractional/ fissure the eggshell whole we crave

Mostly I Want to be Walking

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by myself next to just one wide-eyed moment of wild blued out ocean. You know the one I mean. I don't want to have to speak to you, or even- alone- to myself. I'd like to be left inside the poem it makes me feel without having to get up and pee every…

empty

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feeling empty as the bottom of a bottle dry as a bone in death valley alone

After the Storm

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I watch from the cabin window the death of the sun, hear the howl of the new-born storm.

The Noise

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I'm hearing a noise. I can't see it. It's hiding and seems to be coming from the other side of the creek. With boots on I slowly wade across. The water makes its light lapping sounds. Reaching the bank, I search for the noise. It must have a face, suntanned and warm, that I…

Novemberku

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Dark day.