Art Modell has died;
may he rest in accord with
the law of Karma

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Sirens wailing
into the thick nighttime air--
Urban lullaby

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I see London, I
see France, I can even see
Basho's underpants

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Tragedy, poorly
played, becomes comic, but bad
comedy just sucks

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A poem without a
punchline is like a joke
without a moral

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Those last four inches
make a difference, she said-
about the TV

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Ha ha ha, mocks the
bird: the last laugh always goes
to Mother Nature

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All the complainy
complainers, complaining all
day: New York City

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Smug sarcasm, so
satisfying--so sassy—
stultifying

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An idea is
thought through, a pearl develops—
advantage, oyster

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All games of skill are
games of chance; games of chance are
also games of skill

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The greatest rock star
biography remains the
first: Paradise Lost

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BREAK UP

I’m sorry, poem—
your images are lovely;
your language clean
and precise, with
phrases turned just so.
Nevertheless, I must look away
I can no longer abide the
tyranny of your rhyme scheme

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MICROECONOMIC THEORY

Wallace Stevens, $18
W.S. Merwyn, $18.99
William Carlos Williams $21.95

Leonard Cohen, $13.98

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I often make an
effort to write in formats
other than haiku

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