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Marc Straus



  I see   the bleak parakeet dancing in the cage, the spores multiplying   with mocking smiles. This isn't   a dream.   This is a cross reference in my brain, something a little Valium   will extract. I constantly see things   this way, [...]


Spring 1997 | Poetry

A sinecure of fashion. That's what he was before the illness. I like that word, sinecure. Sometimes I think I've been waiting for the right moment to use it. My father used long words and difficult words when he censured us. Like the time Andy and [...]

Like Me

When I was two, my doctor had a large house on Cortelyou Road. The exam room smelled like a dead frog and my temperature was taken rectally. By age five I was injected with Tetracycline monthly by Dr. Ryan. He later died of lung cancer. Who influenc [...]