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He abandoned desire. The flowers grew slowly around the hole in his chest. When his lover sighed, they trembled.
By Sy SafranskyApril 1980After long days and nights, after asking and following the advice of many strangers, our hero of medieval aspect and suitcase indestructible beheld from a hill his journey’s end, the village of Balladeer Ed.
By David C. ChildersFebruary 1980He decided that if looking into the darkness could evoke both bears with frying pans and wonderful fantasy worlds, then it was all a matter of the manner in which he went about looking that determined what would confront him. He was still scared of the dark so he limited his looking to moments of strong neurotic necessity, but the vision had been so powerful he never again seriously considered brick and mortar as being in any way, shape or form representational of reality.
By David ManningJanuary 1980My fear of my father, my piano, my unsuppressible nomadic tendencies
By Our ReadersAugust 1979After she left, he sat up all night watching his body for signs of change, then watching his mind, trying to arrange his thoughts like jewelry.
By Sy SafranskyAugust 1979I’m gouging (laboriously) in a drainage pipe to avoid paying $20 an hour to somebody who knows how to do it right with proper tools.
By Jim EvansMarch 1979Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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