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Pieces.
More things that make me happy, because I don’t have the words to tell you.
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A Love Letter to Pat Robertson
The lights are on in your great glass house but there’s nothing there to see. Your eyes are glued to the man next door, face pressed against his window in a gruesome caricature, bulging against the panes, lashes wet with lust and your palms nailed tight to the cross you wear like a brace to…
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Written
And in this sorrow, we create ourselves: faces sketched in dull graphite, erased and drawn again until the lines are blurred and the edges of our eyes are indistinct and the creases of our mouths are parentheses, capturing all the things we never said. In this sorrow, we are written indelible and clear we are…
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Scribble.
And in the middle of this, there are lines drawn in chewed-paper crayons and apple-red lipstick, in pencils with metal eraser bands sharpened and cruel, in the sand on the sidewalk outside a long-outgrown day care’s fenced playground with a stick, dragged behind carelessly In the cracks of the mirrors, the anger-creased palms, the wrinkles…
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Toll Bridge
I think you might have dropped this here. I think you might have left these things behind, stuck to the bottom of your shoe and fallen off, or caught on a tiny piece of lint inside your pocket, and let go when you took a dollar out to pay the toll. I think you might…
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An Interview with Ween’s Claude Coleman, Jr.
A few weeks ago, I packed up my husbands mobile recording apparatus and headed over to Claude Coleman, Jr.’s place to catch up with him about all the things going on in his musical world these days. Since the tragic demise of Ween in 2012, Claude has stayed busy, moving to Asheville from his home…
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Pat Robertson on Anal Sex: Christians Will Like It
Robertson claimed that “You’re gonna say that you like anal sex…”
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Flags, Fags, and Gun Control: Notes from the Histrionic States of America
When I was about 14, I decided that everything my mother did was designed with one purpose: to ruin my life. Liver for dinner? She was trying to either poison me or starve me to death. No talking on the phone until after my homework was done? She was obviously trying to destroy my social…
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Closer to the Stars-From ThirtyThreePointThree
Here’s a little something about a caterpillar, some tasty grunge music, and leaving the windows open to the stars. Closer to the Stars