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Plums and boots (from S. Lebedov)

ocher red only the polar birch fur and pine damp wallpaper and mice that Volga village summer says remember Grandfather Two the blind are closer dacha life the stench of official boots a sham, a show the theft of plums mostly a person from days past an old city when you left crane booms and(…)

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Not so new addiction IV

Not so new addiction IV

– continued –   The life and times of the thunderbolt kid by Bill Bryson Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol Going where by Olga Medvedkova Honeymoon by Patrick Modiano The Door by Magda Szabo The Master by Colm Toibin Watch me: a memoir by Anjelica Huston The Cossacks by Leo Tolstoy Heart of the Matter(…)

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Dread and Trauma (from M. Angelou)

get out of bed at four o’clock boasting and bragging second mistake, third hesitation cooking, baking grease I pinched it dumb at once no drawers the curious and envious milled around a new kind of hot he was a stranger babies, darling babies a kitten looking at a wolf because I wouldn’t speak off the(…)

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R von R (from R.Graves)

once aquiline in favor of Karl Marx tiny, frightened a deletion of parental affection coins instead of stamps red deer, black and red strawberries little or nothing neither town nor country R von R or adolescent lust seriously and savagely neither hurt nor win controlling his spittle one in three died on an upturned bucket(…)

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North of the south (from B. Severgnini)

like friends and restaurants a closing zipper an Italian and a German maybe Goethe so far the division of the north of the south ‘believe me’ only background noise Big Über in Moscow in Russian Moguls, Uzbeks soaked in many different sauces scalding tea on the Volga not much more for breakfast Tartars and Germans(…)

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Our friend poverty (from W. Borroughs)

high above the treeline Nembutal and codeine blue, colors, vistas complete bisexuality is attained spam and canned pineapples sad little park ‘plants grow out of your cock’   the same as ever now he hated it 206 East 7th Street a stamped tin ceiling like an English governess fuse the field   no toilet, no(…)

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God is money (from J. Zhang)

with my fingers in my brother’s upper lip surely there smacked it back wanted or unwanted feet in the summer no one would   it wasn’t to get ahead penises looked like guns   okay Jenny odious and cruel crammed so full so so so salty   more fearful, more occupied ‘still no and still(…)

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