BAIL

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… just wondering
how the family reunion meeting’s going.

To bad it wasn’t last
weekend.
I hope those U P girls
behave themselves in the big city.

Why St Clair Shores?

I guess they could call Dale
if they needed BAIL
money………..

ghastly

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ghastly stares out in public.
Here are some ideas I’ve come up with:
“Does that girl know she has metal in her face?!”
“Who did that to her?”
“Not sure if silver booger or…shmeh?!”
“I wonder if she chains all of her piercings together…?”

I suppose I’m just as curious about people
as they are of me.

Palindrayd

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Meandering about the labyrinth with Michael,
you’re challenged by an 8-foot tall satyr
who instructs you to climb into
an old fig tree and feed
three sacred stones to
an unwitting monstrous toad
who inhabits the trunk and roots below.
If you should succeed in doing so,
the toad will decease and
before skinning itself,
reveal a key to your new kingdom together.
As Crodetski the Warmonger and
Phoebenthesis of Palindrayd.

Joy (noun)

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Joy (noun) –
1. Getting another job at the ostensibly “Wonder”Book store,
deeply inhaling the sweet, heavy air
of piles of precious tomes.

2. Coming home
from a long day of both jobs with:
two books, one new – Márquez’s ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ –
the other half-finished; a six-pack of pleasant enough
beer; beard, scarf, hat, and a sense
of purpose.

3. Coming home
to the prospect of a lovely wife
and an over-excited pup;
a cozy evening spent in a room previously neglected;
pajamas, warmth, planets
suspended in space.

4. The feeling that perhaps,
through some luckful twist of the great Wheel…
perhaps things are looking up

T4he game

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I seemed to have misplaced the cinnamon.

My pit4chfork has also gone missing.
I sense a conspiracy, Watson.
T4he game’s afoot.

Found it.
Whoever let me in the kitchen drunk
should be ashamed of himself.

the hour of the beast

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At the hour of the beast,
in the steamy distance,
a silvery tone slithered through the night air.
The ground was torn apart and
from within the fiery chasm
in the fertile earth bled forth
a wailing din.

There, in the nude, perched on a cloud of steam
was Nicholas.
Then, all at once it was as if color
were introduced to canvas
and his voice was present,
in a terrifying baritone hook.

His hand came up slowly from his person
and there it was,
exposed,
the claw.
And the earth was formed.

Blonde Beauty

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I know
people
did not live my life.
I have shed countless tears
and a few more just would not
stop again today.

I stood in Menards
and could not help but cry.
I was picking out the paint for my kitchen.
I was just feeling
the joy and overwhelming happiness.
My kitchen will be Blonde Beauty.

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