…straining under the pressure of victory, the toys of spectatorship sacrificed by average joe…
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rapid prose poem 16
…A ratty tall armchair rescued from the thrift store discard bin supported the thinker thin and crusty cut underneath the ear from rustwire on the…
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…The light is going and you still chase the jack rabbit tumbleweed dirt devils that pass over your mid-sized SUV conversion…
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…I don’t think it’s possible to know what time does before it’s done and dusted crow eating rear mirror driver cross-country mover…
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…Well same ol’ doin better than the anxiety depression insomnia self-inflicted abuse eating disorder crowd but it might be rubbing off or else that’s the paranoia…
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…If melancholy doesn’t come from what ifs then it must be the background track…
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…What do you want as your side? Michael Jackson! I promise you I heard this with my own ears…
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…Golden age strikes again with a shiny baseball used for the season opening pitch at ghetto stadium east coast franchise…
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…Am I the napping one oh great mound from the waters of infrastructure, receding and leaving divided neighborhoods?…
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…finally clothed and spending alone time in the hip renovation loft project that got featured on a celebrity indoor plant instagram account…
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…The taco bell meat hose of ennui pumping preservatives into someone who saw Y2K before puberty and now can’t sit still long enough to make AN art…
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…Let the piranhas nibble your freshly trimmed neck hair and whatever else they can stomach…
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…Addicted to buzzwords like addiction and opioid crisis, stop using those pots and pans they’re for guest dinners!…
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SEMANTICS! is yelled before a blue rushing gasp of breath something like the young elephant on a Tom and Jerry episode that inhaled profoundly and sucked Tom into his own over-sized mouse trap.
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Complex rhythms still hummed in his throbbing head. So he walked.
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The boiling sugar water gets too hot and froths out and over and down and splatters and pools next to a toddler who doesn’t yet know burns…
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Everything I touch keeps the oil/black dust combo like marked territory trash that piled up in the corner named “iron deficiency”…
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