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from The Man With the Saxophone

I've had it all and lost it
and I never want it back,
only give me this morning to keep,
the city asleep
and there on the corner of Thirty-fourth and Fifth,
the man with the saxophone,
his fingerless gloves caked with grime,
his face also,
the layers of clothes welded to his skin.
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from Jack Ruby on Ice

Imagine. A man stands trial among gentiles,
who regard him as the enemy,
a Jew they think will steal the pennies
off a dead man's eyes:
therefore, no one comes to his rescue.
Promises are broken.
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Day 8:
We smile at each other
and I lean back against the wicker couch.
How does it feel to be dead? I say.
You tough my knees with your blue fingers..
And when you open your mouth,
a ball of yellow light falls to the floor
and burns a hole through it.


Day 9:
Death, Bobby, hit me
like the flat of a hand.
Imagine you are made of crystal
and someone ice picks you
and you shatter,
all your cells coming
almost to despair
it is so good.


Day 10:
Now when he hears the sound of voices,
he growls, covers the bones quickly
and hides beneath the burned-out shell of a car
until they fade
like all the voices that once made us family,
but could not save us from our destiny.


Day 11:
Come on, baby, lay me down on my back.
Pretend you don't owe me a thing
and maybe we'll roll out of here,
leaving the past stacked up behind us;
old newspapers nobody's ever got to read again.


Day 12:
I enter your room,with my purple face moist from excitement.
The black straw basket I carry
in my yellow arms cracks softly,
in tune with the brittle snap of my blue legs,
as I sneak to your bed.


Day 13:
Beside the river, I stop the wagon,
loaded with the plague dead
and have a drink.
I fill my mouth and swallow slowly,
then climb back into my seat.
The old horse drops one turd, another.
Corpses, I give you these flowers.


Day 14:
I move off toward the street.
My feet press down in it,
familiar with the hot soft asphalt
that caresses them.
The sun slips down into its cradle behind the mountains
and it is hot, hotter than ever
and I like it.
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Day 1:
We tear ourselves down atom by atom,
til electron and positron,
we become our own transcendent annihilation.


Day 2:
A nightlight in the shape of a bear
burns in the center of my darkness.
It's clear acrylic and inside, a blue bulb
casts a pale blue light in the room,
where I lie awake,
my twelve-year-old insomnia,
a warning of future sleepless nights.


Day 3:
The wharf has a tight deep vagina of water
and I'm going to fuck it until it novas,
just to let everybody see
how I cut through life like a diamond
in a sack of glass, with no regrets


Day 4:
I'm burning from the bottom up,
a bottle of flesh,
kicked across the hardwood years.
I pass gin and excuses from hand to mouth,
but it's me. It's me.
I'm the one dirty habit
I just can't break.


Day 5:
Dawn had come to the village
with more killing on its mind.
I heard screams and pleas for mercy,
then I realized those sounds were inside me.
They would never leave.
Now I am always talking to the dead.


Day 6:
I always say
it aint a shame;
it's crime
and thank God somebody elese
is paying.
This time.


Day 7:
If I'm anywhere, I'm still trapped
in the palace of lies,
where I'm clothed in illusion
and fed confusion with a spoon.
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from The Hitchhiker

I move off toward the street.
My feet press down in it,
familiar with the hot soft asphalt
that caresses them.
The sun slips down into its cradle behind the mountains
and it is hot, hotter than ever
and I like it.
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The Corpse Hauler's Elegy

Beside the river, I stop the wagon,
loaded with the plague dead
and have a drink.
I fill my mouth and swallow slowly,
then climb back into my seat.
The old horse drops one turd, another.
Corpses, I give you these flowers.
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from The Color Thief

I enter your room,with my purple face moist from excitement.
The black straw basket I carry
in my yellow arms cracks softly,
in tune with the brittle snap of my blue legs,
as I sneak to your bed.
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from Twenty Year Marriage

Come on, baby, lay me down on my back.
Pretend you don't owe me a thing
and maybe we'll roll out of here,
leaving the past stacked up behind us;
old newspapers nobody's ever got to read again.
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from Lullaby

Now when he hears the sound of voices,
he growls, covers the bones quickly
and hides beneath the burned-out shell of a car
until they fade
like all the voices that once made us family,
but could not save us from our destiny.
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from Two Brothers

Death, Bobby, hit me
like the flat of a hand.
Imagine you are made of crystal
and someone ice picks you
and you shatter,
all your cells coming
almost to despair
it is so good.
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from Conversation

We smile at each other
and I lean back against the wicker couch.
How does it feel to be dead? I say.
You tough my knees with your blue fingers..
And when you open your mouth,
a ball of yellow light falls to the floor
and burns a hole through it.
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from Oswald Incognito & Astral Travels

If I'm anywhere, I'm still trapped
in the palace of lies,
where I'm clothed in illusion
and fed confusion with a spoon.
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from Afterschool Lessons from a Hitman

I always say
it aint a shame;
it's crime
and thank God somebody elese
is paying.
This time.
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from Rwanda

Dawn had come to the village
with more killing on its mind.
I heard screams and pleas for mercy,
then I realized those sounds were inside me.
They would never leave.
Now I am always talking to the dead.
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from I Can't Get Started

I'm burning from the bottom up,
a bottle of flesh,
kicked across the hardwood years.
I pass gin and excuses from hand to mouth,
but it's me. It's me.
I'm the one dirty habit
I just can't break.
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from The Suicide

The wharf has a tight deep vagina of water
and I'm going to fuck it until it novas,
just to let everybody see
how I cut through life like a diamond
in a sack of glass, with no regrets
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from The Psychic Detective: Destiny

A nightlight in the shape of a bear
burns in the center of my darkness.
It's clear acrylic and inside, a blue bulb
casts a pale blue light in the room,
where I lie awake,
my twelve-year-old insomnia,
a warning of future sleepless nights.
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[personal profile] pf_mod
from The Testimony of J Robert Oppenheimer

We tear ourselves down atom by atom,
til electron and positron,
we become our own transcendent annihilation.
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The July challenge starts tomorrow, so I hope you will all be inspired!

I'm very sorry I vanished, but we'll be back on track. :D I hope you're all as excited by July as I am.
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Just a reminder before we begin:

Here's a link to the profile for a refresher on the rules.

If you have any questions, remember you can ask them in the questions post.

Sign ups will be accepted until 11:59 p.m. CST on December 31, 2014 (the time in your part of the world), and the prompts will be given on January 1, 2015.

Sign ups are open. Please comment here with your name if you'd like to participate.

Sign ups are now closed.

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