house call
Friday, June 18th, 2010The patient is in
her pajamas, with an un-
prescribed ice cream float.
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The patient is in
her pajamas, with an un-
prescribed ice cream float.
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Must the default be
attack and denigrate? Or
can we listen, too?
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Repeat location;
the crickets and fireflies
transmit them in code.
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Sweat forms the moment
grownups step out to check if
the lawn needs water.
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The fabric of a
nation isn’t measured in
stitches but people.
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The oddball in the
salad bowl has something to
say, if only asked.
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The park once teemed with
teens and old folks in chairs till
the money ran out.
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The modern ghost haunts
not rundown shacks or scary
graveyards. He brings dread.
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Run free. Escape the
corporate dungeons for a life
richer in mischief.
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The best manuscripts
artfully hide a series
of drafts and rewrites.
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How do we handle
conflict? Smoothly. How do we
keep going? Blind faith.
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The odd thing about
second chances? They can help
remove all regrets.
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The saxophonist
blares out riff after smooth riff,
shades on the whole time.
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Flashing blips poke the
darkness straining to get in
sync with each other.
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Hundreds of miles from
the beach, still finding sand in
shoes and cars and bags.
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