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As of this moment I am practicing the letter. Sitting alone at my kitchen table, tonight, ten-thirty, I am practicing how to. . .
Reuben stared up at the posters. “That’s a strawberry popsicle, right? And what’s that your friend’s got there?”
Somewhere in Maine a boy waits for my phone call. I can’t call because I can’t move.
The modern history of art is a history of its removal and destruction.
Is “Twin Peaks: The Return” a masterpiece of thwarted nostalgia or a sentimental joyride?
Peter Daou and fellow #StillWithHer Hillary supporters suffer from Trump Derangement Syndrome, and they are far from alone.