Stories tagged prose-poem

minimal one

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Maybe he should have a schnauzer in the room. He could toss a ball and the dog would bring it to him. Again and again the dog would return the ball.

Rehabilitating My Cat

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making himself sleek in case of predators on high, the owly eagle’s watchful eye

Polyphemos

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that we, nature's children, shall never forget our origin, bearing ever witness to the ocean washing his gifts onto the land

Untitled

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What else, H, is there to say about heartbreak? What else could it be but our hands, cupped as if holding water against our chests, then broken into halves. Or the picture of this one, pretending to load a gun. Or this one, soaked in smoke—asking for

Probability

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1: The Zero Product Property states that if a multiplied by b equals zero, then zero must equal a or b. Thus, to prove this theory, multiply a and b divided by a. Use the broken chord theorem to crease the zero by disrupting the circular movement of the skewed line. As a…

Four In One

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MY JANES: If I were like Tarzan & could tame this jungle in which I live I wouldn't waste my time prowling neighborhood shrubbery & treetops in my loincloth looking for squirrels to hypnotize. I've kept up with my beastly ex-wives …

Rooms

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I have a memory of rooms I never leave but have invisible walls. These are rooms I never leave, these are rooms where I exist but don't live. These are rooms where it is dark but I know they can see everything. They can even see inside of me—even my heart beating…

Ghost

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It would wander the hallways after the 3:45 bell, after the last class, after the students had all disappeared with the homework they'd never finish, the papers they'd forget to write, after Nate the janitor pushed his broom through the endless doorways,

The One

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Jack thinks I should carry a loaded gun in my purse.

Ten Things I Love About Portland

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There are ten things I love about Portland, but I cannot remember them.

Why I write

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I sprawl, I spill and I splutter

October

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It's Halloween again, the season when my mother died.

Two Riders

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You are modern child, age 48. You wear a modern child's uniform—indoor soccer shoes, headphones and handheld video game. Your hair sprouts like cauliflower, a mass of gray. Your beard is salt and pepper, and hands are worn. Thumbs are broke skin and jaw is slack.…

Planet Crabby

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On Planet Crabby a boy met a girl and a girl met a boy but neither couple got anywhere because they dismissed their prospective partner as just plain too crabby. Alternative arrangements were unthinkable. This happened a number of times.

Lenin's Paintings

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I was going through Lenin's jewelry and his paintings with a team of experts. I got the idea that I was hired to verify his paintings, although I didn't know he painted. When I went home people were staying with us who were actors and actresses, and