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Memoriam
Because of this and other reasons, the young woman and the young man go on that fateful Memorial Day, go down to The River’s bank. They push the red polyethylene canoe into the River’s green water at a secluded spot accessible only by brief portage down a narrow dirt path through the lush green conifer… — read more
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“MECO in twenty-six,” the NAV Officer says, her voice jittery from the Starcraft’s violent contortions. “Outjump once we’re in the green.” “Acknowledged,” I say. The Starcraft groans and shakes hard. We groan and shake hard. I grip the handholds on either side above the COMM panel. Due to budget constraints and generally poor management, we… — read more
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Sequence 3
He hears the surf. But the sound comes from a ways away. He tries to move. But the pain prevents him. He is unable to open his eyes. He is in a bad way. He knows this. Yes, he’s helpless to do much about it. He remembers nothing. His recollection is a patchwork of vagaries.… — read more
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On those certain nights In the balmy summer heat, She allows me to climb her tree To indulge in her passionflower, Her nectar sweet, And I drink and drink ‘Til I can drink no more, Never satiated, never satisfied, Always in want of more At dark of midnight When a Summer night storm Rears up… — read more
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Maureen the Light Keeper knew Long “Woody” Johns was a sailor’s sailor with a steady hand on his tiller and an uncanny sense of the direction on the Ocean Mysterious, and judging by the way he expertly navigated the crests and troughs of her body that one time, she knew he would give damn good… — read more
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This, again. Those numbers, etched on my Soul by her rapier wit when she imprinted me with her Love by lips most beguiling, and conversations of Things Important and Tantamount, all the while suborned by her background and whispers in willing ear, whispers of a nature both scandalous and salacious, and now the promise of… — read more
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The sun wakes the old man. The room is cold, and last night’s fire nothing but ashes. It is spring and with warm days, but winter cold still rules the night. The earth is cold. He is cold. He doesn’t move. His lonely bed is lukewarm from the modicum of heat his body supplies. He… — read more
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Sequence 2
The dream? always begins the same: a lone woman with bare feet on a lone beach under a lone sky. Trapped in his mind, the scene replays, always the same. She traces sand angels with her toe in the flat sand. The water is cold, but she’s seemingly impervious to this. She smiles, a wry… — read more
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Sequence 1
He opens his eyes. The lifter’s flight chief tells him they’re on final and the pilot will land on a disused stretch of tarmac a kilometer east-southeast of the beach. He nods once to the flight chief. The flight chief slides open the lifter’s wide side door. Out this door, the Pacific Ocean reels under… — read more
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Spring, 1984
first Sunday of spring we stole away under the welkin’s sapphire groin – to be alone, together on that narrow bed, bodies taunt your body nude – thighs capriciously yield, your sex, carpel-like & emergent as Venus Rising – I trace your warm sticky, your lips a blossom’d rose; woman’s taste your familiar taste –… — read more