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My D I V O R C E Become Final Today
Chalk dust memories are running down the creek, washing away any love words I ever dared to speak
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- 1075 reads
Roxie Does the Internet
She had visited every internet site she found interesting at least a dozen times, received a plethora of email from people unknown, peddling everything from paintings to painkillers, and she dabbled on the poetry boards.
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- 999 reads
Roxie Has Harlan Ellison Dreams
At first she blamed the new strange wine that had grown increasingly popular with people like her, those lost somewhere in the land of the pale horse.
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- 1099 reads
After Two Years of Marital Bliss
She no longer called him honey, she called him snake. He in turn called her mongoose
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- 1034 reads
The Manly Gamblers
His sire liked poker and other games of chance. Liked real playing--for dough. The lad tagged along though hours would pass before the return trip home. The manly gamblers played, joked, wisecracked, drank,
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- 1485 reads
THE ICING ON THE CAKE
It's a poem and it's a trifle silly.
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- 1086 reads
Sex In The Afternoon
No one needs to hear about sex in the afternoon. Most of them know all there is to know about it. The sparkling come, the sun warming a ripe tit. The fact that it's no one else's business but your own.
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- 3001 reads
JUGGLE WITH PROVERBS
A bit of light-heartedness.
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- 1227 reads
Debbie
Debbie has just turned eighteen. She is a very sweet girl. She is completely innocent and rather naïve. She attends a girl's college and before this she went to an exclusive girls' school. She always had few friends. They did discuss things other than academics once in a while. Say, skin-care and make-up and the weather. But they never spoke of anything else. All these years Debbie was not allowed to read books outside her syllabus. The teachers at the school were very serious about this. Of course there were no glossy magazines within reach. Most of all Debbie and her friends were not allowed to see any films. The girls are enjoying their summer vacation now. Debbie saw her first film two days back. It was called 'Gone With The Wind'. The leading man whom everyone called Clark Gable was really handsome, Debbie thought. But there were so many things that Debbie did not understand. Why did the hero and heroine behave as if they could not do without each other. There was no man in Debbie's life. And she was doing absolutely fine, thank you. All the other girls watched the film many more times. But Debbie found the film boring. Instead, she decided to raid her elder sister's room and read her magazines. This sister is happily married and the magazines are quite old. Debbie was shocked to find that the magazines contained nothing but photographs of couples hugging and sometimes even kissing. What has the world come to, Debbie thought, men and women kissing for the camera.
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- 972 reads
Recollections Of My Short Career In Pornography
I enjoyed especially the way the actresses smoked between takes...
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- 1673 reads
dungbeetle
winter winds blowing (haiku)
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- 1067 reads
fishpond
rain falls on fishpond (senryu)
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- 3019 reads
Rocco Siffredi? ¦who?
Italian stallion or Shetland pony
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- 11608 reads
The Debt
The garage lockup was in a quiet deserted back street far out of the way; no one did, or would want to bother Ames or any of his crew anyway. No one in his or her right mind anyway. Five men were in the workshop, yet only four were part of a seemingly close-knit group; these four were positioned leaning or standing, all with deadpan dangerous expressions.
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- 1615 reads
Somersaults
Soon he will be catching fish in his mouth
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- 1400 reads
Mind Damaged: Opening chapter
It's not that I'm a serial killer. I'm told that to be a serial killer you need to make a habit of ending people's lives and that's just not something I go in for, not physically anyway... But there is something. Something that makes people look at me with a look of bewilderment, blankness, or occasionally with disgust (the disgust looks are always my favourite).... If you want to entertain any hope of understanding me- any whatsoever, you must, where at all possible, try to avoid understanding me. For understanding, as they often don't say, is the breeding ground of all reconciliation and thereby of all conflict. View the first chapter of the experimental and rather odd novel-in-progress Mind Damaged. Please offer your most honest suggestions and comments!
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- 548 reads