https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NMtWcxW6Tw My college buddy from years ago, the brilliant keyboardist Curtis Kendrick, met me in a NYC practice room and we bashed out basic chords, melodies and ideas for an homage to the late Beatle George Harrison (known as "The...
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Some Men

So when he left I longed for the old house I had. So often, late summer in that house, marigolds on the steps for a lost weekend. One year I raked maple leaves until I passed out. The long shadows, the long space where his body was. Only the hand print on the...
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Oil on canvas, 3'x4'
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Void

We will speak, all wind and hail icy tambourine of tin roof or nights I sat on your bed folding warm towels, pairing socks, still inside out with you, still marveling at the emptiness we tuck into Emptiness is the hole punched through plywood pantry door,...
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The wall

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I’m not hungry.  I appraise the contents of the office fridge anyway: a carton of soy coffee creamer, three sack lunches, a four-pack of flavored coconut water, someone’s bottle of sriracha sauce & a sealed plastic bag of organic cherries I noticed three mornings ago. I tear open...
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jsPi3hE640o Guitar and video - Jenn Zed Cello composed and played by Yuki Louvière, Berlin This piece of music is a pre-release from my forthcoming album - Gradients of Light & The Destruction of Space. Please watch in full-screen high definition where possible.  
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jaded by the complexity of it all sometimes it's best to focus on a single thing: the tops of your shoes we just keep walking, though traffic whistles pass and the neon trails waver slightly before they leave us
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After the Violin Gypsies from Spain cause their own heartbreak Anthony Bourdain said I don’t know what that means maybe we all cause our own disasters in search of something to brace against
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As a tango dancer as well as a photographer I wanted to find a way to combine my two passions, so  I experimented with composing still life photographs featuring tango shoes and other personal items.  These are the top three images...
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She tells me I am panicking, to try to take steady, slow breaths. I wasn't panicking when this started, I was asleep. Asleep sitting up, of course, but unconscious, undreaming. I open my mouth to say so and a moth flaps out, like...
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Water in toilet is frozen. Shit piling up on top (took a good one this morning, though I don't know from what). Mop bucket of water harvested ten days ago to flush toilet is frozen solid. Four-inch icicle depending from kitchen faucet. Pissing in kitchen sink. Piss frozen. Sink nearly full. Kitchen sink of frozen piss. Met a howling,...
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The Albany Public Library Foundation celebrates poet and teacher Lyn Lifshin this year as a 2019 Literary Legend, together with author Peter Golden and poet Dan Wilcox. Please tell friends, and consider joining us for the gala in October...
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After a long period of introspection, I have come to believe two things: 1) that human intelligence is vastly over-estimated and 2) that human communication has broken down. Not much else examines this so closely as this poly-polar fraktal...
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This year, Submittable raised its prices by over 100% to publications that previously received literary journal pricing. In our case, this price hike went from $187 to $444 annually. We refuse to pass this cost along to writers and...
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https://soundcloud.com/rc-james-user841120068/z0001186 Jhonny Flaymz wuz tha mos’ baddass rocah in da sevun sounze districk dountoun dadda. Cum bak to da flatt wun nycht hardon mynd trubbled extreeme ubout Jadah Queen, hiz wunce apon uh mattress 2 tymer crunsh. Jadah plejj ta him fuh lyfe ez wee...
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One night, as they stood outside their cave, the stink of smoked leaves and urine still choking their breath, they had visions of mushroom clouds. Terrified, they ran back in, trampled over bison hides covering snoring bodies, grabbed all the stone tools, and smashed each and every one.
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.john threatens mary. .attempted murder. .there were traces of blood. .hiding the body. .the confession & doing time. .john reflecting on his behaviour.
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On the last day a homeless man offered a woman with a briefcase a lecture on living                                 & she listened & the man with a daisy applique on his t-shirt rested his leaf blower on a lawn                                                                 look up no one is ready to call it a...
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Tax Returns

The IRS said: By law we are prohibited from releasing hatchling barracudas hiphop trains into the tunnel Screw’s censored 2013 wall calendar footage from the show a profile of the terrorist what he claimed was art the transcript of what he said 90 puppies to be gassed assloads of...
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CQ DE OU-OZ HANNE

Oil on hardboard - 100cm x 51cm
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Sometimes a discussion helps. Sometimes it doesn't. It won't hurt to give it a try. I could lose those 10 stubborn pounds. You could harden a muscle or two if it makes you feel better. You know I love you just the way you are. Then I...
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Acrylic, pencil, chalk, ink on Kraft 280gm corrugated cardboard paper – 30cm x 37cm. After an image by Kent Williams.
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The Hawk

Standing on a stump, he talked of Peru and the mountains that pierce violet clouds. I am the hawk. Watch me soar. He spread his arms and spun, his poncho whirling, his hair sleek ribbons in twilight. I belong there, he said. I want to go back. Raising his arms...
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Lunch Date

The first thing I noticed about the golden eagle​ perched in our dead acacia tree was its shadow falling over mine like a pall. The second was the cactus wren, still alive in its right claw, eyes bright with resignation. I didn't care that...
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I worked hard to callous my hands so I could touch her. I worked hard to strengthen my arms so I could hold her. She should have known she was raking her spurs across my heart. I sold her horse because that sad excuse for dog food was taking her where...
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A wallow started by the hippos is the haunt of warthogs now. The sounder’s trine of little pigs raise holy heaven, godly grunts as though flung mud will make them categorically popotami. Wise baboons shriek and grin— they’ve long already learned that all the aping in the...
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Just Rest

The reason for writing will come. Birds will peck at the lime outside your door. The solid gray density of fall along the coast will someday make summer again. There's no way to repeat those moments on the stage, or out on the desert with...
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From T.S. Eliot’s “Macavity.”  Master criminals of the world, beware of blood on the seat, and prints on the stair. There’s no malefaction you can circumvent: Lockproof is on the scene, and onto your scent! He’s known to solve the most serpentine riddle as swiftly as...
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I feel a pull at my trouser leg while I wait for the light to turn green. I glance down to my right and there he is. He has the bluest of eyes and a full beard, and surely,...
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Swan Diver

She started taking small steps that grew longer until she reached the end and bounced her sleek body rising as she arced her arms outstretched before slipping into the water. Later she did the same her hair loose her body straight and slim as she sprung from a ledge floating above waves for...
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Quiet Baby

He worked as a framer, sawing and nailing rough-hewn boards for rooms made of drywall, climbing ladders until he blew out his knees. We have nothing in common, she said, but you make me laugh. And her eyes became slices as he poured her beers and slipped her big,...
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Skinny Legs

Girls called her Skinny Legs taunting her in gym and pulling off her towel to see the galaxy of sores erupting on her back. I can’t eat, she said. But my parents make me. Flapping her paper hands she uncrossed the tangle of her gray brittle legs wincing when...
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One day in the torridness, they were riding the railing in the white shadow of the arches, and laughing forever.
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Just dancing

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Click an image to open full-screen viewer.
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Reset The Humans loved to burn things up—witness what they did with Mars eons ago. After they torched Earth’s exquisite atmosphere, the cold blew in from beyond and even the heartiest of them died. Our race waited under the surface...
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Bilde 002

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john ordered mary to make his hot drink. later mary killed him.
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the first failed attempt by mary     to kill john under the  guise of sport.
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The images presented here represent a portion of my series "ConTEXTnaTURE," developed in 2017 and finessed in 2018. The impetus behind this project is a focus on the beauty of leaf structure, surface, and geometry. I chose to portray...
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There she goes, through the sultry, the murky waters, her name in dainty handwriting on a dark stern of Swahili mangrove— Allah’s signature in blue on the bow— as I watch from the sides where a tide of passion recedes to let her go.
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Using again …

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The Dark

The Dark I am not afraid of the dark. Sometimes it purrs at my feet, in a puddle, round and still. It oozes along the floor and climbs the wall and hovers there. I feel its warm breath. I am not afraid of the dark. My dog and I go...
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haphazard

throughout my life i held them responsible for the haphazard way they went down their roads dragging us along, but now that they are gone and I wander down my own dimly lit paths, dragging my own along, i now see the blindness that guides us all
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Jazz Tuba

“How Deep Is the Ocean,” his solo like Buddha preaching, telling us what we didn’t know we knew.  When my son was born, I stopped judging my own parents, my mother practicing cello each morning at 6, my father’s jealousy. Every family is tiresome in its own way. When the set...
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Ink and Pencil

 
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Visited Fitzgerald's grave recently...it's in Rockville, Maryland, next to a busy highway, in a small, nondescript graveyard next to a bunch of others who, by the looks of their gravestones, appear to be long forgotten. So we beat on, boats against the...
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particularities

There is a sense of humor to this project, but I hope to also stir thoughts around the rituals many develop around food. What foods do you like, but only in a particular way? Maybe I could create another image with...
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Bonds

“There are years we lose to people we didn’t realize we never loved.” —Philip Schaefer There are years we lose people. We didn’t realize how much we loved the myth of them. The warmth in the soft lining of the glove, absent. There are years we...
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Shadow Existence On the way to work a large bird flew overhead. I wouldn't have known it was there had it not wedged itself between me and the late morning sun. Bird Bath Some stories belong under the bathroom sink beneath a broken pipe where rests dirty water, toothpaste spit and soap scum. *** My...
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9-iQVu66BQ Me and my zine Submissions are open for The Swaying Drunkard's Moose, and I'm so excited to start reading your poems! Unless they're about your cat. Your cat or Jesus. We don't wanna read those. PLEASE DON'T SEND SUBMISSIONS TO OUR OLD,TALLYHO site OR...
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Rezubian

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Down to the dust

Guitar and voice by RC James https://soundcloud.com/rc-james-user841120068/z0001070 Ain’ nuthin’ left here ‘cep six uv us an’ dry stahks ‘a corn. We’re up ta movin west soon as I sort out the T-Ford. Jenny, ma wife, is set to have anuther to make us seven. Got some taters...
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separation

I left you without saying goodbye though you wouldn't care I was Pluto and you the Sun an indifferent smog grew shrouding a giant with thousands of heads you cried and acidic tears burned my clothes and eyes your face got a lunar spot my throat dried and...
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Buddha Man Blues

for Muddy Waters On the Mississippi bottoms West African griot rhythms filter through Spanish moss swaying over the river bank. Lovers find their own cadence, song settling into their hands moving over each other’s skin. At night in the juke joint, his face commands the stage, he nods, beams,...
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is the diagnosis that dings even your casual observation that things may have finally gone to shit. Your joke that mouse droppings in the garage will carry contagion the moment antibiotics stop working will be met with reassurance and no one will laugh. Instead,...
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I’ve laid by her for ten years now beneath these creaking boards an axe between my long-gone eyes a spectacle of gore. She rests beside me so composed in mournful pallid sleep the knife between her once proud breasts buried in her, deep. We once were lovers...
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The Battle

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My friend has

had a baby. I go online, buy a present, click ‘gift wrapped’ (I don’t need to see tiny, sleepsuit feet). I visit them, hold him, even carry him to his nursery, sit in a rocking chair and sway anxiously while I question why my heart weighs more than he does. At the top of the stairs I...
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Return Policy

There’s a squabble of greying women knitting at our local coffee stop. They are talking about dumpster diving—how survival is another’s refuse. I swipe hairs from the bathroom floor, the shower, the sink—knot them together for a winter nest. The girl who...
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.the bear. .lucky elephant. .monkey. .mouse. .yellow bird. .the hawfinch. .words.
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The first time this goat fainted I wanted to pack him in a crate & ship him back home for his safety. It’s hard as hell to watch him lying on his back with his stiff legs in the air & he faints a lot; barking...
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Down to the dust

https://soundcloud.com/rc-james-user841120068/z0001070 Ain’ nuthin’ left here ‘cep six uv us an’ dry stahks ‘a corn. We’re up ta movin west soon as I sort out the T-Ford. Jenny, ma wife, is set to have anuther to make us seven. Got some taters an’ dry beans in the root...
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In November 2017, when the cottonwood trees were golden leaved, I toured Georgia O'Keeffe's home in Abiquiu, NM. —Kelly DuMar
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Man on Knees

Can't recall when the conceit of breaking through barriers into a different & more colorful world occurred to me, but it did. In the film, being here at home represents suburbanite stasis. It represents being stuck in one place:...
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Alleys 3

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Gravity

I play with friction, skin and air, a ripe blueberry between my lips.
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The Autobiographical Note I walk through the gym doors. Steve is doing chest-flies. He yells Hey, Flash! (Steve doesn’t know my name.) Third Person, Past Tense The sky through plate glass was interesting. He should have told Steve how he’d felt about Love the...
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Pre-linguistic

A child chews on his toy Lucid imbecility A baby’s lallation All his l’s are r’s— My dumb joy When I talk like him.
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You are obsessed with the furniture. I don't really care about the furniture. I am lucky if I get to sit on the couch and watch "Dexter."​ Every time I walk out the door you insist on rearranging the furniture so it will be...
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Loose Change

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Roses

https://soundcloud.com/avery-fogarty/roses-original1 I used to be sorry all the time I used to love you I swim in and out of your mind I used to be sorry all the time I used to love you oh Now I'm constantly contested Punched a hole in your wall...
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https://soundcloud.com/user-417500652/muddy-water-woman Muddy Water Woman Down in Missisisippi where the catfish grow long I found her and I promised her someday I’d write a song About a rebel woman whose soul could stir a man To break the chains that bind her, and dare to...
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It’s hot the breeze just lifts and settles. A man sways to dangerous angles. The kids look quick but play anyway. A possum half crushed is half alive so the guy gets a crowbar. He walks stiff hoping he will just die without intervention. This is what...
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. small item . what you see is magnified. they leave here larger than life petrified in their own forests. scan beds and lens. light the cracks, the boxes. tie the books closed, leather bound, broken, words lost. boxes can be opened to reveal. —sbm. .fallen. .before you know. .crumbs. .bandage. .kisses. .ticket. .yesterday's fluff. .my soul. .961. .pinc.
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How’s she goin’? Just passing through, eh? Course you are. They all are. Don’t get much traffic up around these parts anymore. Odd tourist who maybe got lost. Sometimes ‘Mericans that actually mean to come here for the huntin’ and fishin’, but...
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The straightest way to get from this life to the next is by climbing through the sliced-open belly of sky left behind by the stoop of a falcon, she explained. Then she taught me how little I knew about my own language: the prescription by which adjectives are always stacked old...
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never tell a zombie the truth never lie to a zombie never say things to a zombie you wouldn’t say to your own mother never stare directly into the eyes of a zombie never give money to a panhandling zombie if a zombie ain’t...
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Boneyard leaking bones till shifting rivers, tilting hummocks tilling plows of oxen turned to tractor, turned to combine, pull the last remaining shrined remains, and leave the now unhallowed soil to rest in peace.
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Nebula Heartstrings

I painted this in my grandma's old shed, so things got a bit dirty. I kind of liked how dirt looked, so I just made it a part of the painting. —Taylor Bain
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New Year’s Day

Streets seem tired, city, at rest. We move through balloons, confetti, Moët, leftover eggrolls, last night's jest.  
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A bare-bottomed girl runs to a window. Last night her grandfather muttered of a world full of violence, the dread of never- ending rain, fountains overflowing their pools, the earth a mire in which everything dies; her parents penned in, rats under their beds, scorpions in their robes, snakes in the...
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HYPATIA

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Angry Mind

Most of my abstract work is meant to capture an emotional state. Painting is often a cathartic exercise for me. I am naturally introverted, so I enjoy expressing my feelings visually. For me, this painting represents repressed anger, but...
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positive side effect i woke up a few mornings ago with what seems to be a sprained ankle although i can't remember having done anything to sprain it. so i've been taking some back pills that i had in the medicine cabinet. my foot still hurts but...
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Against Poe

Poe wrote "To Helen," considered by many one of the great love poems. "Nicean barks" & "the glory that was Greece," admirable phrases, I admit, but to paraphrase Tina Turner, what's love got to do with them? Poe visualizes Helen as a statue in a niche, all marmoreal...
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A Flurry of Wings

Today is not just one cup of black coffee after another. Today, I have enough melancholy stacked on top of more melancholy to climb up a sad stairway, out of my down-in-the-dumps, here - into the snow-covered mountain peaks of the Hindu Kush. I...
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Sabbath

Angels enforce Holy Writ, while others veer toward the particular Here, children somersault on grass while the noonday sun, outstretched as thine hand O Lord  pours through a suburban home on a dead parakeet’s cage On Sundays, her fingertips flicker over her guitar. With her left hand,...
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My first beer of the Christmas season I knew in the candlelight against the stained oak countertops that I should be out smoking a cigarette under the sandpaper night instead of sitting there in my sh-tty jacket wishing I could...
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Christmas and New Year’s move toward us again the old sickening duet the masses coming out of their tv caves the family gatherings the gross dull nothingness, the fake drunks, the fake smiles, the fake people may we live through this somehow, one more time * This “found poem” is a reworking, in poetic form, of an excerpt from a letter that Charles...
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Schrödinger’s Kitten

After I blunt Ming's grapnels with files and buffers, she wolfs down the meat off the pull cup. In the open yard where I grow blush Parfait, beside the bush is a toddler crouching to squat. Covered in dusty indigo, she can be easily mistaken as...
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Nights are hardest to bear. Alone, that smell of us, still heavy and with ghosts, our sweat, our heated exhales. I taste you. I pull you. I sink into a a tangle of tongues. I taste your pillow, the scent of your hair— blue figs, oranges, spit.
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I Fucked the Poet

He was there at the mic with a glow behind his head like a literary god, so I fucked him. Me, two other women, and this bisexual guy named Frank. It was five-bod-fuck and very poetic: Frank got the whole thing on...
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You’re Strange

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LgRU9GzElaw
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one of my first

publishers is retired and living in France. he’s on his second wife and lives on a farm in the country. every now and then he sends me these long, long e-mails talking about the wine, the food, the people and how much he loves his life since he ditched the first wife, gave up...
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Help

mixed media on paper, 2018
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Everyone believes the crippled kid.  A blind and mute paraplegic from birth, the crippled kid lets his older brother, Junior, pad his red wagon with a patchwork quilt and canvas pillow of turkey feathers, cradle his body and set...
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hotel room in little rock there were three of them forceful drunk too angry to care whether she lived or died she swung the cardboard pizza box like a machete it was all she had I try not to depend on anyone I try to understand easing the monsters. They never really...
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The Shearer

The shearer’s oilstone rides the blade’s silver edge. There is a swish as one blade closes over the other. It is a fine tool honed. He wears blue stretch jeans and shoes fashioned from jute. When he bends over a sheep, a sprung...
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Which came first, the chicken or the chicken, the egg or the egg? “Pass the Tabasco,” Buddha said. “By the way, where’s your bowl?” “In the cupboard, Noble One. Giving it a rest today. I’ve got a lot on my plate to contemplate.” "The chicken and the egg?" "No, I mean my personal idiomatic plate,...
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They hug and whisper kind words in the other's ears. They share their home-cooked fares, and delight in the quaintness of the other's ways and customs. They express with kinder words their surprise at the other's warmth and grace. They admire each other's moral codes and are...
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Dougherty: Lyn, what would you say to a young writer who had her sights set on poetry? Lifshin: I’d probably suggest she go for a degree in something she can rely on. The Black Mountain poets never thought of poetry...
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in the chaos of your induced arrival there was only time for the briefest introduction your eyes asked Now what? I don't know, mine replied
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Reverse Rumi

Always live in regret. The past is ever present. There are no new days. Today is no better than yesterday. Look down and backwards with despair. The Almighty has planned no new opportunities for you.
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The Forest

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Yah! There’s something to be said for modern Hep B, HPV and AIDS, but gonorrhea, syphilis, chlamydia— the all-time greatest hits of STDs— keep raising their infection rates! Stick trendy condoms up your ass! Did you imagine rubber flummoxing those masterminds who leveraged bestiality to colonize a...
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This project grew out of my interest with the tension between the documentary nature of landscapes and the fiction of the story they tell. I took away the realism of my photographs to enhance the narrative by using the...
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Twin Journeys Bright Lights
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Dry Aquarium

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When I hear someone claiming they had an imaginary friend when they were a kid I almost say, “bullshit,” but I don’t. I’m not saying they are liars. The subconscious believes what it believes. If someone wants an audience bad enough they will say anything. Not me, but...
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each freckle is a planet in this contained universe, a body that orbits the sun— drenched experience I’m in. I say I worship God, but my skin tells otherwise, sacrificing myself to the heat, the dark brown dreams I have had every summer for the rest...
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Her Secret

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So when can you free up some time to see me? Free up some time? "Time is one thing that's always free" -- remember that, my dear Gottfried? Sounds vaguely familiar. Who said that? You did. Really? Yep, eight weeks ago tomorrow in physics. You handed...
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The Forest

acrylic on canvas with pastel and marker
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I don’t want it to rack up the likes even the nicer obituaries with pictures of charity work and all the good things are cringe I don’t want random fuckers grazing over my Facebook page trying to work out what happened there’s nothing wrong...
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things get whittled down to winners and losers the prizes for naught 'cepting participation 'cause we all find ourselves lost with nothing to kick yeah i misplaced the only-est love i had then the friends the food the will to touch meself the faucet still leaks, though it reminds me of yesterdays and tomorrows, which...
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Fidelity

You have abandoned the day to hide your secrets. I keep your hand, hang the moon in these dark trees as an offering. It’s late, but then on the table — a pot of tea and two cups, waiting.
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Postlapsarian, we carry in pockets, the lumps of perceived iniquities which, distract us from our actual guilt. The impure loin or purloined pear or Pearl conceived by Hester can weight us down, or further tempt the casting of first stones. My fault, my fault, my grievous fault with focus on the my, makes my neighbor...
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Baroque-n Clock

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The Fool

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my-Tune

I take that song and immerse it in a bucket full of cold water, hoping that the song chills me down while I fume for missing my last train home. Today I wring the same song and put it on the clothesline while the sun is...
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Monsoon Abstractions

chalk and charcoal on paper
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this time by a bird whose aim was more direct, on target and effective than any of the critics who dislike me, my poems, my attitude, my way of writing or just my way of seeing things. this bird should write a book and call it “John Yamrus is in my sights...lean, mean and as i see him”... it’s a little...
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Wetware

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You Are Here

Soon there will be more tattoos on the planet than people, more ink on skin than on paper. We are already reading each other more than books or newspapers. I am thinking of having X you are here in blood red ink inscribed directly over my heart. I am thinking if I indelibly mark the spot, & leave a permanent note to myself, I...
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Lysergic Deviations I

".. Some are Born to sweet delight, Some are Born to Endless Night."-- Subhadeep De Mixed-media on paper
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The Familiar

Oh, you’re one of those, she said. Yes, I said, sadly, I am. And then I said, You’re not, I take it. She had just returned from a surgery involving the known world. Her eyes were visioning… big data, one would...
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Bad Habits

My gay friend told me he masturbates three times a day. Ewww, I couldn't help thinking.  One of my bad habits,  judging others. But three times a day? I thought, bro, way too much information. And don't you think once a week's enough?
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but if I don't then wheel me to a window in my own house and don't assume I don't understand an acoustic guitar, the hum of smalltalk, or cinnamon from the kitchen. Don't ask me if I remember, behave as if I do. If...
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Nocturnal Caffeination

White pencil and chalk on black paper
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At Lewes we sidestepped insignias like hallowed things but didn’t buy tickets, opting to watch the bay as the ferry shrunk into the cape; seventeen miles was trivial. We didn’t consider the metaphor of shallow displacement or the freedom in rising tides, only impending deaths, that rudderless wind, and the scope...
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Facing the ocean (because you never turn your back to the water, because the waves curl over themselves and rush up with rage like thundering white hooves and you could be somersaulted, thrown and rolled along the rocky ocean floor, spun and jolted like clothes...
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Fistfirst

 
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.we drift.

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Jesus turned water into wine. I smuggled pot. Jesus got nailed by the cops. So did I. Jesus had long hair. Me, too. Jesus walked on water & raised a man from the dead. I got sober, speaking of miracles. Jesus fed 5 loaves of bread & 2 fishes to...
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Wrap up every rock against the weight constraints of the contract. Leave one ghost in the granite garden under the broken palo verde and the other on the maple table by the stove. Consign the gravel drive to the monsoon and make a list...
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Acrylic, pastel and marker on canvas. An exploration of color, shape, and composition.
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Letter provided to Open Arts Forum by Douglas Goodwin.
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Flight

Understand this A moth can be as beautiful As a butterfly. And even the plainest Still has wings. Today, I will not be praised. Tomorrow, not remembered. Still, I am dancing the night In flutters and twirls. This moment is mine.
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I Suffer Fools

It's my best thing. I offer coffee and strands of broken light untangled from the mare's nest of whatever the hell is wrong with you and why am I just learning about this now? I agree with the guiding principle only if it smooths the afternoon into...
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Aquatic #4

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Fading

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Unhurried

316
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Aquatic #3

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Chalk and charcoal on bifold
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Soft pastels on bifold
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Pills

Purple makes you sweaty while you shiver with a chill, and morphs you into Betty when your given name is Bill. Aqua gets you placid, but it has an ill effect: it either leaves you flaccid, or unwillingly erect. Yellow smooths your edges, you’ll be far less tightly...
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Gouache Colors | 21×29 Cm | On Paper |2018
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One Month After

Blink and you will miss her mutinous retreat. Dill in the kitchen window has wilted but not quite gone to seed, books are tossed aside like faulty algorithms meant to solve grief. The blast that once lifted her finally flagged and she fluttered to...
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while I watch a huge ant light-foot up the drainpipe like it was a piece of cake to trot your whole weight perpendicular to earth I wonder if my difficulties getting through the day are of my own imagination rather than the physics of an actual predicament
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The Selfie

Holding it right is half the challenge. The other is not to shake before the click. They say that the aim may change due to the pressure applied by the finger. To think that in the old days they had to handle the powder...
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I’m befuddled by the wind, how it blows; it has this bodiless direction. I can feel it kissing my face. Hey wind, you strange warthog— how can you touch me so, when I can’t touch you? I'm befuddled by the starlight drip over Wagner Butte. When did the...
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Widow and Child

An interpretation of Claude Monet's Woman with a Parasol. — Subhadeep De Water colour on paper
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https://soundcloud.com/ian-badcoe/sets/crowd-cloud-found-sound
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It’s what I do

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There is never betrayal in the space between boxcars where his face still tilts towards the old life he left. The new life has already scrawled itself in graffiti pastels that end with an imperative and steel-coupled air. She should live in that swaying niche, call...
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They glamourise war with their literature, support Mexico w/ the import of narcs, fry pretty much all their food, & negotiate hard. They let their children play w/ glocks, chew tobacco—spit nastily at the emptiness of pavements. They hold democracy high aloft their heads, shoot unarmed black...
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Gajra

Since 7 months Rita and I were living in the same apartment but merely as occupants sharing the same roof. Our 4-year marriage was on the rocks and divorce was just a few months away. Both our lawyers were...
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  GIF versions of "Fine On The Outside," and "Another Look at Delta" below:                                                    
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Melon Man

—RIP Koko, The Gorilla Who Used Sign Language, 1972–20 June 2018* Sheep in wolf’s clothing, Melon Man’s what the Town and Country grocery with biggest best batches of sweetest honeydews at bargain basement prices called me. Green magumbos just ripe enough so my orangutan thumbs could...
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Rain

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abstract

abstract

acrylic/ 28×22 cm /on paper
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f9

f9

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Shine Me Through

https://soundcloud.com/rc-james-user841120068/track-4
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Coyotes

And then the sky opened. The world filled with blood. Cameras caught it all, buildings wrenched from their foundations, anger and sirens and stench. We were tired of marching, of whispering, sick from the reek of smoke. By then, my parents were dead, but they had seen it all...
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What began as a way to pass the time soon became the time I got lost inside the city’s blanket of haze. What was supposed to be mundane soon became the time I got lost inside the neon light of the street. What was supposed...
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Guest Hiding Mistakes Sweet (2) Home Up The Light Reach 35 mm film photography with digital manipulation  
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Late in December 2016, struggling to make peace with Donald Trump’s ascension to the Presidency of the United States, poet Tom Riordan wrote his first “Trump” poem, and he hasn’t stopped since. To date, Riordan has written over 350...
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I keep saying I'm not going to another holocaust movie.  But then I do. The latest one set in Augsburg, 1958, when twenty-something Germans thought Auschwitz was nothing more than a POW camp and their teachers, their fathers & their uncles had been, at worst, good Germans,...
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Alleys

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I don't like mango but I’m compelled to consume space, to savor the liquid, label all the rays upon my tongue, such sweet perspicacity. A citrusy mist collides with taste at the speed of sound, an explosive parade of chest-bound fate. I am an imposter but I taste city lights, the salty crunch, a...
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rather not

low over june’s dusk grass the fireflies’ sparse steeps all float away in one direction in the gentlest of arcs then as my ramble loops back so the grazing lumens flock drifts like a compass pin to keep a slow right angled optical illusion of departure
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Phonetics

I thought you said alphabetic, and picture plastic letters filled with magnets, colorful refrigerator doors. “Apologetic,” you argue.  “I was trying to apologize.”.I wonder if anger is the new I’m sorry. .You continue to talk but I don’t hear anything— I rearrange consonants with vowels as...
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She called it a perfect afternoon — we had just left a poetry reading and were enjoying our coffees on a café couch beneath a red umbrella slightly shaded from the hot Florida sun. We were reading some of the short ones from a thick...
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W

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even

before the hour sounds, we are already sitting with the dead.
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we dangle from a single thread​ pendulous from the bars ​ on the upswing to the hot plates​ ​ on the down ​ to the soft shrapnel of coal​ ​ if you’re lucky some doctor with halitosis ​ will tell you the time you have left ​ ​ if...
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I had nothing but tears warm as blood a hemorrhage of grief all that day and through the night. They took my nail file and pocket knife and set someone there on constant watch in case I found the sudden energy to act. But I’d lost so much, the...
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don’t frown don’t kick the door don’t slap the chance it’s a sensitive bad-ass don’t zip up the wound if it begs to expose don’t turn on the light if you have no idea what monster waits for you in the closet don’t crush, don’t crash and if you have to, don't...
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You are the mirror into which we plunge. - Terry Wolverton Here at the border, the river runs clear. We can see our faces as they ripple in the sun, our bodies so thin they’ve nearly disappeared. We are falling from a great height. We have left...
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Part I Part II
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Peer

A self-representation of the door and its meaning.—Faizan Adil
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Sonnet

Though night eats its way out of the sack That cat is in, yet still the caterwaul Of promises defeats the constant scrawl Of secrets tattooed stiffly on the back Like the whip marks or elevated track Across the city’s underlying wall Of poverty. They...
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Moving Day

I swore I would not get sentimental about leaving the porch swing behind. We painted it red to match the floor—the front door. I swore I would not write about singing "Moon River" to my midnight newborn while watching headlights blur down Maple Street. Just...
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a familiar place   our dreams quarreling  over petty things you've never been here    but seem at home familiar   what isn’t is vertigo i adapt to it   adopt it somehow though it is yours  though you shouldn't  be here   you...
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nor smash it with heavy stone pestle let it be spoiled with caress of cubic sugar gently, as your wrist dances like a Sufi in Sema and your lips whispering the grandma's spell let this mermaid in red rest on the bottom of a...
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bukowski

back in the 70’s back in LA I knew of him as the uncouth Christ of the drunk-again alcoholics the naked emperor of young trendy-cafe chefs and of the intellectual and the pseudo-intellectual trust-fund kids who wished to be like him by living in decrepit houses the lawns of which they littered...
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Old Glory

Old Glory at half mast atop the White House so some well-off white must have been shot not by a cop who took his cell phone for a gat but a civilian armed à la the Bill of Rights
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First, turn on the lights. Ghosts drift toward shadows. Use the sin of omission as if it was a life raft, and you can’t swim. I can swim, of course. As a child I swam in tanks, throwing rocks before getting into the water to scatter...
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