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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…

The Last Quiet Morning

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

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.

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...

Stones

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

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—

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…

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."

Interstellar Solace

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he considers the swirl of galaxies/ with their black hole hearts,

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,

The City of Lights

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

Check Engine

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“How’s the Pinto running?” Sean says. It’s been awhile. Maybe Darcy won’t remember him.

Malaise

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Endurance wears the soul thin.// The hour to succumb ticks ever closer.

Within You and Without You

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The cloudless sky/ amplifies the incompletion,/ clarifies the imperfections/ of the night’s normalcy-

Things I Learned But No Longer Believe

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Shakespeare had red hair / Van Gogh never painted a nude

Shameful Maneuvers

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Most of the boys I pretended to marry thought my classroom seductions were funny, but there is a chance that one of the boys turned violent against me.

A Release of Sorts

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For the new year, I´ve given up palm oil. Made shopping a whole lot harder. Damn orangutans tugging at my conscience.

Missing Letter

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It's so far to get to where we aren't inthe way of someone's destructive progress.I'm only walking in my own gardensnow, but the big blue house is like an emptiedout envelope. I guess that makes this themissing letter. I don't know your heart's newaddress, but I once…

Dark Heart

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When we take Vengeance,/ shave and shower him,/ deodorize and scent him,/ clothe him in a starched shirt

Feast

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I watch the seagulls making their quacking noises

Ants

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I don't know what happened to all the men. Used to wonder if they killed them all.

Only a Memory Away

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When Uncle Dan got sent to the Alzheimer's ward, the ladies licked their lips. Fresh meat.

The Dog

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The dog is reading. This morning, as every morning, the book is open in front of him. Well before his master's rise, he had already read the moon then dawn and the clouds. Now the slippers, these that walk here and there. Followed by coffee and the pages that turn. A little…

Brucey

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I kept my seat. Passengers packed in the aisle weren't moving and until they were, neither was I.

The Sharps

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How could a leaf be an accident?

Whyisthereaheavyweight?

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Why is there a heavy weight and a chain and a padlock in her woodstove? Because, she says to herself, slightly hysterically, because this is yet another thing that you must carry. Why? Because life is full of chains and padlocks and heavy weights. Hea

The City of Lights

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We argue on the way down. We bicker on the walk to the bistro. I get coffee and croissants at the bar and bring them back to our table, and she is still talking, proving me wrong, when I return.

maybe, in winter

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I will wrap up in quilts that still smell of summer sun