I will have two extra copies of this manuscript, when I finish. I might mail one of them to Rachel. I
might send the other one to my sister.
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Be warm for a half hour
Be warm for an hour
Be warm for an hour and a half
Be warm for two hours
-- The Snooze Button Truth
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If I kissed you, but then you wiped it off would it still be a poem?
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One time, Martin and I were talking in his office. I asked him if he had gotten bored at work. He mentioned that yes, a while ago there were two years where he really didn't do too much, and was bored most of the time. Somewhat shocked at the idea of two years of boredom, I asked him what he did. "I built a ship inside a bottle," he said, "it was a big ship."
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If you've gotten tired of this genre in which I'm writing, please move on... I'm only writing because I still find it interesting. But, of course, in the end I'll try to get a machine to do it for me...
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I am tired to the bone
little flecks of calcium
crumble off and are too exhausted
to put themselves back on my neck
my back
my knees
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Rob once explained bars to me: "You see, everyone who sits at the bar... everyone's a little bit shitty. I mean, there are, of course, degrees of shittiness, but there's a certain comradery that you gain, simply by sitting at the bar..."
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Boy am I ever going to have a hard time editing this mess! Oh well. If it gets too big to read all at once, I'll divide it into chunks and serve it arbitrarily to people on the internet...
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