A World of Shit Pt. 2

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The sitcom cut to a commercial and Garth picked up the pipe and a lighter. While we watched a procession of former lard-asses tout the benefits of a new diet pill, he lit the underside of the pipe’s bowl and waited for the blessed, wisps of white smoke to swirl and rise. He sucked in the smoke once it appeared, held it a few moments then blew it all out. It was a massive hit; ash-white clouds filled the cramped camper. Feeling a wave of relaxation from the hit, he pondered just how many hits of equal punch the bowl had left. After all, hadn’t Blackie urged him to smoke all he wanted?

Unfortunately, he still needed to take a massive dump.

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A World of Shit Pt. 1

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Garth hadn’t dressed properly for the frigid weather. He wore only jeans and a loose sweater over a black T-shirt. No overcoat, no scarf. He paced beside his green Nissan, waiting for Rufus. He’d arrived at Fat Dog Liquor at seven that night just as he’d promised Rufus. It was nearly seven-thirty. He fought the urge to take his money and just buy a bottle of rum to take home to Josh. Occasionally, one of the customers shot him a baffled or suspicious look. Garth considered waiting in his car but doubted his dealer would remember what he drove.

Tonight was special for Josh and him. After Josh finished his prison term for a minor drug charge, he and Garth plotted online for a time they could get together, get high and get naked.

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Will’s True Quill Pt. 2

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Because Shakespeare dedicated “Venus and Adonis” in 1593 and “The Rape of Lucrece” in 1594 to Henry Wriothesley, the 3rd Earl of Southampton, and addressed him intimately in several of the sonnets, the Stratfordians inferred that the Earl was Shakespeare’s patron and possibly even his lover. But if Oxford was Shakespeare, then the relationship between the two peers takes on an entirely different significance. Wriosthesley was engaged to Oxford’s daughter Elizabeth from 1592 to 94, and though the betrothed couple didn’t marry, Oxford and Southampton remained friends and shared a mutual interest in the theatre (Looney 177-86).

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July

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Death arrived first and waited for the rest of us.

She slept in bed beneath a pall of down and cotton,
drifting away from consciousness
while we toiled within it.

We watched her,
our hushed voices rising up into the air,
“What do we do?”
“What’s left?”
The questions rose while spirits sank.

Her body left a cavity where she tucked herself in,
buried under the insidious warmth of the duvet.

Pounds lost were nothing to the gravity upon her.
Her breath ebbed back into her lungs,
following the contoured mattress—
a cushion sloped like the bends of the universe—
compelled by forces pulling it in,
pulling her in,

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Will’s True Quill Pt.1

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Although skepticism regarding the authorship of Shakespeare’s poetry and plays may well have been expressed as soon as William Shakspere (as the family name is spelled in the Holy Trinity Church Register of Stratford-on-Avon) was publicly acknowledged as the illustrious “Bard of Avon,” the first writer to voice his suspicion was James Wilmot, a retired London cleric who in the early 1780′s settled in Warwickshire and proceeded to gather material for a proposed biography of Shakespeare. When he learned that the most famous inhabitant of those parts may well have been the unschooled son of a local tradesman who left not a shred of evidence that he had ever owned a book or written so much as a letter, Wilmot gave up the project and discarded his notes.

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Lies, a Parody of Sia’s “Chandelier”

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Party Politicians love the hurt
Don’t feel anything, they will never learn
Money they push down, they push down
I’m the one “to represent you all”
Polls going up, representatives ring’ doorbells
But there is no love, there is no love
1,2,3,1,2,3 Lies
1,2,3,1,2,3 Lies
1,2,3,1,2,3 Lies
Throw the truth back ‘til we believe you

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