poem
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Isaiah Jones versus the Sea (A 21st Century Odyssey) Chapter 7 The Counting of Things: Time, Life, and the Universal Order* For the last three days she had spent aboard the Exodus since being rescued by Isaiah and his Dogo Argentino, Starbuck, Naomi Galatea Cabala observed the gangly black boys morning ritual that he
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Isaiah Jones vs the Sea (A 21st Century Odyssey) chapter 32 excerpt titled “African Rhapsody” from the novel in progress “Isaiah Jones versus the Sea (A 21st Century Odyssey) by Joey Da’rrell Cloudy; Chapter 32. African Rhapsody* pt 1 of 2 “I can say with no ego, this is my finest sword.” -Hattori Hanzō ‘Bohemian
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Isaiah Jones vs. the Sea: The Sermon on the Bow* The African Atlantic Church of Bone and Ghost 14° 45′ 15.2″ N 32° 55′ 16.8″ W ‘Stuck in the Middle with You’ “Well, I don’t know why I came here tonight. I’ve got the feeling that something ain’t right. I’m so scared in case I
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Isaiah Jones vs the Sea (A 21st Century Odyssey) Showdown in the Castillo del Morro: Sex and La Petite Mort: In the Age of Consenting Adults “Why can’t I get just one fuck? Why can’t I get just one fuck? I guess it’s got something to do with luck
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Isaiah Jones vs the Sea (A 21st Century Odyssey: My Last Night in Havana* March 15 2022, Middle of the Atlantic Longitude 15°31’47.9″N X Latitude 40°21’14.2″W2 The Ides of March/The Devils You Deal With “On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.” -Tyler Durden The stupidest thing he could
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Isaiah Jones vs the Sea (A 21st Century Odyssey) Showdown in the Castillo del Morro: Sex and La Petite Mort: In the Age of Consenting Adults pt 1 of 2 “Why can’t I get just one fuck? Why can’t I get just one fuck? I guess it’s got something to do with luck But I
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Isaiah Jones versus the Sea (A 21st Century Odyssey) ‘Epilogue American Woman: Raw* “When You Grow Up, If You Still Feel Raw About It, I’ll Be Waiting.” -(Bleep Bleep) Epilogue American Woman: Raw The name on the mailbox read The Spears family of the City of Pasadena’ a google search listed a 56-year-old Pricilla and
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Walking up Goliad listening to the morning song of the old trees, the irises are flying their colors beneath the soft parade of periwinkle clouds being pushed over the rooftops of the gentries three story condominiums just out of reach of the straining finger tips of the oldest trees the streets almost crowded for a
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TASTE OF DEATH “Come back with your shield – or on it” (Plutarch, Mor.241) the parting cry of Spartan mothers to their sons. It’s hard to think when the dogs sniffing the floor, yard mans lawnmower whining, the hydraulic crush of garbage trucks, the radio playing trip hop and your old lady’s massaging your nuts.