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Blue tinctured bottles labeled and lined up
right next to other ones, in rows
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Maybe inside some cold New England chapel
I remember everything as white except
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I could never understand why the
American Right hated this guy
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I born was into a very Irish Catholic family
lots of priests and nuns.
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and now that small flash of brilliance, your last remaining conceit
and that episode at the ticket counter
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Who’s afraid of a little bad verse?
And if of course, the verse were a little worse
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Somewhere in the house, a hidden conceit either under the stairs Or pacing the hall into the living room where loud adult voices
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I remember people's t-shirts more often
than I remember their faces
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At a seven-thirty meeting, all wearing name tags
half of them with hangovers,
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I know many Muslims and I know them pretty well
everyday experience at work and elsewhere.
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I rub soap into my fingers
And watch it mimic and trace the lines of ordinary filth
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Normal 0 MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style
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Once when I was young I had spiritual aspirations
I fasted for a week when I was fifteen,
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Life’s to short for bliss…
Life’s to short for the sun…
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make me free no matter what the cost
my guru died and so did my grandmother
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I stared into the evening and the lingering bliss of the sun.
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"What's the frequency Kenneth ?"
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A universe of assholes
is all we’ve become,
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I am a testimony to your blessing
Random or obscenely lucky I may never know.
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God I have not seen you yet
you are still a stranger
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If only life had half enough
for all my distant strangers
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This pen and
pantographed intention
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With my face I try very hard to forget the personal,
I keep my head down and try to look like everybody else.
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The existential background radiation of existence is
in well fitted suits the words have gone
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I’m just another ordinary lifetime slipping away
one forgotten moment at a time
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I know a place where rivers don’t matter,
Everyday the ocean disappears and becomes earth
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I am the proud owner of FlipBook.com
and FlipBookSuicide.com
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Boo hoo no one ever
by bobanonymous
3 lines, 2 comments,
on Nov 26 11:37 PM 2008
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The piece of moonlight that remained
was filtered and divided by a hardwood forest,
by bobanonymous
10 lines, 8 comments,
on Jul 26 9:42 PM 2008
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The past is becoming more so everyday,
the places I used to haunt
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Wait...
I have a tolerance for a hard-wired smile
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It’s the difference between foolish and stupid
and the difference between mean and nasty.
by bobanonymous
12 lines, 3 comments,
on Jul 13 12:57 AM 2008
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