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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.

Love in the Time of Ebola

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Me: In my orange hazmat, the one that makes my eyes look intensely blue.Him: His flexi-human-hamster ball. Fun, but a bit informal for a first date, I think.We're outside because doorways are not easy for him. After some impromptu rounds of bumper balls on the square, he…

Now or Never

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One by one our friends are kicking the bucket. Let's get together. It's now or never, we figure.

The Last Quiet Morning

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Things don’t happen here, life is so boring in this little Irish town.

Working at a Truck Stop Outside Charlotte

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My name's Barbara and don't call me Barbie if you want to be my friend.

This Is

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Have you ever spent twilight in a old pasture?

Catherine

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Love free of independence is a savage, hungry beast Phantoms grasping, sweating, gasping 'till her mind could not be freed

Outside Starbuck’s on the Way to Work

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I always step around his mess...

The small hills of my cousin

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You know, my mother was afraid that I can no longer resist. She was absolutely right: My four sisters have all passed away before the summer shows its fruit. It was hard "said my mother”, not to see my flowers bloom. I, the calf of my mother,I came…

Purple IV

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Purple not rain! I guess Prince left. It is said that Prince owned the aquifer under Jordan, Minnesota, and that he sold it but to whom? And moved to Canada—

Stones

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At the graveyard, the leaves had been raked into loose array....

The City of Lights

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Paris is a great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.

Yellow Pages

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Yellow Pages season is on us now, and Jimmy's drivin' a contract route. He'll head out to the San Joaquin where they print, and load ‘em in the back of his Tundra with the high side walls until the whole damned rig sags low,

Your party invitation just arrived (guest poem by Carolyn Martin)

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"I’d rather move a word around a page than raise a glass or pass a plate or work a room immune to poetry."