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2010; What I Wanted

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You can't always get what you want, and fortunately, that's sometimes a good thing.

and Henry Rollins as Lydia Grant

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At this stage of the game you don't even matter enough to have an asshole.

The Taste of Coins from Treasure Troves

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I hold a key to feel its pull, and follow where it leads. Once, because the moment, key, and direction felt so right, I ended up on the streets naked. A police officer threatened me with handcuffs. I laughed, mesmerized by the cuff's clink, their never-ending circles,…

13 Crimes Against Love, or, the Crow's Confession

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He's kneeling on the floor of his West Village apartment, by the door, asking me to leave. He first said he saw someone once a week. But what he means is that they sleep together every night, as they live together, and spend their Sundays together.

Irish Drunk

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Your honour stinks of failed fishing trips to Galway.

Self-Fired Bullets

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Grasping for control over social consciousness Because cigarettes are too deadly and so is anorexia

January First

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Enumerate the small delights/ this bright first morning

Tangled Up in Glue

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Shhhh, my husband is trying to write...

Happy Valentine's Day From Your Librarian

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Is every librarian a poet at heart? I don't know, but a group of librarians recently put their heads together and came up with these library-themed Valentine's Day poems: Roses are red Your book's overdue You've had it for months Which is…

Crash

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My God. It never ends

Assemblance

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I assemble myself daily// from the ready-mades/ of a fast talking world,

The Absolute Goes Round In Circles

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What 68 Years on Planet Earth Have Taught Me

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Life is not always quixotic.

Aubade Faucet

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I. he leans his messy head against the walland contemplates his wild mistakeshe discovers a nest of red spidersoutside his rotting basement doorhe watches television in his socksand…

My Tongue

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A nun once told me to watch my tongue. This is not an easy thing to do.

Hey, Pistolero

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I'm complex. You're complex. We're all complex.Who gives a shit? Man's fallen and he can't get up.I consulted Jacques the Atheist for advice: he toldme to beat it. "But I lack the proper stigma!" I cried.Once a month, I volunteer at the dressage parlor.On Tuesdays, I…

It's really not the same

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It wasn't the same as taking a course with Ginsberg. Everyone knew Ginsberg. Nick Cave, too, everyone knew him. Waiting lists were full months in advance for those classes, everyone sent in resumes and writing samples, praying, begging to be included. Lish was just an…

The Meaning of Lines

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Hold your breathThe smoke here is thick, I knowIce underfoot, let it burn, let it go, but don't ask me to take your handYou have never been so patient as to sit and waiteven for the sun to riseWatch, now, here it comescresting over the hill as one large eyeboiling the…

Polite Grafitti

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He was entirely guilty of what he had done and wanted that to be acknowledged and understood by the arresting officer.

Naming Crayons, or the Edges of Denim

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neon carrots and atomic tangerines

Julia

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Six months later, she was teaching theology / to refugees from est.

Stage Play in Five Acts of Her: Matinee

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I could have writ­ten her as is with long bushy hair, skinned knees, over­hauls, blue­berry stains on her fin­gers and teeth because she eats them too much. I love her bet­ter this way, blueberry-stained and wild....

Processes

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How to Boil Water How to Cook an Egg How to Eat How to Think How to Love How to Die

Duet for Two Instruments of Indefinite Pitch

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A full moon in the morning sky, the sun hasn't bothered to rise and why should it, see how unnecessary it is, left over from a sleepless night, it stayed there, in suspense, waiting to see what you could possibly get up to next. A patron saint for lost ca

My Way

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We were over Casper, Wyoming, when some terrorists tried to take over the airplane. They had concealed weapons.

The Suicide Lie

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I’m a suicide prevention counselor for teens. Most of the time I answer phones and tell kids not to kill themselves over their boyfriends and girlfriends and drugs and rock ‘n’ roll, etc. I’m not even sure what the number is—1-800-DONT-DIE or something li

Four Poems

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Our disappearance would register/ as the movement of a sand grain/ on a windy beach full of sand.

Something for Seniors

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For Sale: Clean Depends, Never Worn

The Nurse

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I lay on a table in a cold room in one of those little blue gowns that open in back.

I Never Metafiction I Didn't Like

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If you find a nickel-plated Colt .38 lying on top of a worn copy of King Lear, you’ll know who you’re dealing with.