Stories tagged fiction

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 1

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In those days everyone ate poetry for lunch. It was considered essential for your good up-bringing and mental health. We would skip a meal in order to satisfy our hunger for words. To hell with a meal. To hell with dirty politics and meaningless wars on o

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 2

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I lived for a time on Red Square in Berkeley. You may have heard of it. It was run by Von Rotten (that’s just plain Von), who was considered the Vladimir Lenin of the Foul Language Movement of Poetry (FLMP, pronounced “Flimp,” sometimes “Flump,”

Bookends of a Life: II

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The clacking ventilator reminds me of ice cubes rattling in your highball...

Half-and-Half

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Terry worked in a factory out in Northlake where she added a little squirt of milk and another little squirt of cream to those tiny half-and-half coffee creamers you find at every motel in the country. The owner of that factory hired only women to work

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 2

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A large crowd of students began to gather around the base of the building that housed the administrative offices, where my hearing was being held. The meeting room was up on the second floor.

I will be your girlfriend, Sam Pink

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I don't really know, though. I've been locked in a beer cave for the last ten years of my life. I was just let out by some frat boys who were looking for Natty Light.

Along Came Doreen

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I didn't really know her. Yet, to me, she and her friends epitomized the local hip scene.

Parsing We

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An excellent plan. Just like old times.

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 4

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That night we slept on the floor of Kirk and Maggie’s apartment and listened to them arguing all night about art and life and love. Ah, me, I sighed, the sad soul of America! I thought of Walt Whitman. I thought of Allen Ginsberg.

At Seventeen

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Mild sexual reference, hardly worth mentioning.

At the Faire

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Carl and Dolly were actors. Dolly was offered the lead in a porno film, but she turned it down.

Hardly Used Tractors

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Now Carver Smithton has a paunched belly as stout as the beer that fills it. His upper lip is thick, fat and flat like a caterpillar run over by a semi on Highway 17.

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 5

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and we got the apartment, which was on a street that backed up on an alley situated, as it turned out, right across the alley from the very first Hari Krishna house, where they would wake up at four every morning and begin their maddening chanting: Hari K

Hey Jude

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I laugh too loud cause the world looks good that way and for a minute we both make funny sounds just to exercise our vocal cords and see how close we can come to the line without crossing.

Audubon

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Sam liked collecting women's names in his lips like an aviary.