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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Monday, May 29, 2023
the memories all boxed
it's a fog
that we drift away in.
old
friends, getting older.
the ghosts
are still alive
and yet
transparent
as they fall off the face
of our lives.
names
and places.
the memories all boxed
and ready
to go.
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Pancakes in Three Miles
knowing what is known
the end is near
the long journey home
the Georgetown nights
triple feature drive-in
borderline 101
untethered at last
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fading farewell
into what will be
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get out while you can
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in the dog house again
another sin to confess
the memories all boxed
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the chipped cup
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the discovery
who he really is
you should have that looked at
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until sleep puts him down
why ruin things
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the writing class
it'll find you
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the bending of trees
the same old song
the greatest fear of all
not yet, but soon
duct tape decorating
the burning bush
i know that sound
set in our ways
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the Chinese lettuce wrap
spare in the trunk
it's about time
hidden nowhere
what port?
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freeze dry me please
a message from above
zip me up, sil vous plait
another back up piece of clothing
further cups of crazy
you may have seen my cave art
face to face
killing of the pigeon
cat fights
perfectly imperfect
organic, the biggest scam of all
the bottomless purse
talking golf
the blind corner
gone green
modern medicine
better living through chemistry
not taking any chances
monogrammed towels
spring cleaning
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i don't mean lettuce
if that occurs
i want that today
don't go there
the kitchen phone
stay out of her way
maintenance
the errant text
white dwarf star
hold the door, please
the class valedictorian
Frenchy the chicken
the permanace of love gone sour
slip sliding away
under the skin
waterfront property
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About Me
Stephen Chute
west springfield, virginia, United States
these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters and are in no way representative of any real experiences in my or anyone else's life. any similarities are purely coincidental, except for the dog poems.
View my complete profile
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