Stories tagged death

The First poem.

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Then you stopped abrupt.

The 2nd poem.

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You came to me In the self made calm Causing quite a storm You want me to rejoice and relax? Not knowing my fears Shall we ever fly?

My Brother Outside a Cantina at Night, Mexico

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in his thin, swanky black leather jacket out on the town at night in Mexico with his girlfriend

About My Dad

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My dad drove a Model A Roadster and had a photo taken of him on a hunting trip up in Wisconsin with one leather boot up on the running board and a .22 caliber pistol in his hand like Ernest Hemingway and Clark Gable rolled into one My dad ro

From Beyond

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Someday they'll find me face-down in a puddle of ink.

Death and the big city

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She ordered us a pizza and we sat at the kitchen table eating cheap two for one deal pizza. I pushed the grease around with a crust. My mother drank a tall Tanqueray and tonic.

Touching Jim

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He introduced me to key lime pie, for this alone I would have loved him forever...

The Undertaker's Son

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You would never see me the same again. You'd always be peaking at me from behind your mother's apron.

The Man Who Lives In My Shower

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There is a man who lives in my shower. He was here when I moved into my apartment three months ago, so I didn’t have much choice in the matter.

11 Bang-Bang

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The smell of candy and burn... /A patriotic prose poem for the fourth of July.

Putting the Fun in Funeral

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The funeral was a blast. One helluva time. We all had the time of our lives. Well, all of us except Dominic. It pissed me off that Dominic didn’t have fun. After all, he was the center of attention. The whole day was about him, and we spared no expense

(5) Forgiveness

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“Charlie was right about you, Nan,” she said in a voice of pure defeat. “You are a gentle spirit. And probably too good for people like us.”

Can't You Tell When I Get Lonely?

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“Can't you tell when I get lonely?”, she asks. “No”, I say. It gets awkward because she wants me to know when she gets lonely. I don't give her the attention she wants without realizing it. She moves away and stares at me for…

Five Years Ago

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I pressed the tiny pill onto his tongue so it would stick and in doing so I touched his tongue with the tip of my finger. It was hot and damp, and it didn’t feel like the tongue of a dying man.

Infinity Pool

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I sink until water saturates my lashes, waiting, breathless, for the words to stop.