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the orange sweat machine
counting the bulbs on that strange chandelier in your living room. six. and the two of us are at the airport casting affections at each other. a giant worm flexes its back and we step onto it, ride it north toward the laundry room. when we get there, we strip naked and stick our heads…
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piss where you eat
pick one, they’re all bathrooms, you said. and i went up and pulled on one and it didn’t budge. i pulled the next one and it opened. i went in and shut the door and locked it behind me. it was dark. lit by one of those lights you see in underground government facilities in…
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a late digestif
it’s after our coffee,the room is still a messfrom last night’s “Italiannight.”we made our own pastawith your new pasta makerafter we finally figured outhow to put it together,jamming the plastic inthere and me cranking thehandle like mad. dougheverywhere today – i wasthrowing it up in the air likei was making pizza – and theentire apartment reeks…