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Contents Page: July 1, 2011, vol 7 no 2

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Charles Tarlton



black and white
each page of Moby Dick
across the room
too far to read—just
lines and scratches

Things happening around here could never amount to a real story; bland interchangeable minutes just stack up, one after another. Look there, someone has scattered garbage at the shore, but no one believes there's tragedy beneath all that rumpled paper, aluminum foil, and cellophane. On the street, girls and boys with names like Edna, Chloe, Roger, and Bill exaggerate all the time; they're loud and rude, sure, but they don't call to mind stories out of Euripides. All kinds of people walk in and out of here; you try to look deeply into them…nothing.

enough cash
to order himself one beer
nothing more
to do but stare into it
make himself go slow

reality TV
plays in the hair salon
personalities come
and go, but no one cares
no one remembers names

Dégager: (French) to free somebody, a trapped object; to clear a way, table; to emit, give off a gas; to radiate enthusiasm; to draw conclusions; to make room for a margin, clear a profit.


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