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About Deviant KeefMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 13 Years
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Literature
Dead on Fort Crook
Dead on Fort Crook
The radiator plumes.
I've overheated, it seems.
I flip on the hazards
and sit while ablebodied
cars and trucks shark
and minnow past.  The senses
are heightened in times of forced
immobility.  I notice, for one thing,
that the street where I've died
is called Fort Crook, that the sign
is crooked, that forms do not persist
when you are dead in traffic,
they appear and vanish like hand
tricks, irrelevant and new
forever.  I light a cigarette.
Cigarettes, too, share
this newness and irrelevance
when viewed from the present.
Where did they all go?
Stalactites in my lungs, frog hops
in my chest.  The radiator fumes sweep up
the cigarette smoke, then they spiral
together and become air.  
I could be here all day.  I don't need
help.  Let me be the eyes, watching
this new irrelevance born, fading, reborn
but always fading.
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Literature
Farewell Tour
We are Skullstryke and we won't stop rawkin.
Man, playin Chicago tonight, still one helluva city even after you rawked there two fuckin billion times.  But I feel blue as hell for some reason.  Oh.  May 19.  Occurs to me that it's been 21 years to the day since Skiv choked to death on his own puke in the shitter of a Shoney's in Sioux Falls.  Pour half my bottle out in the sink and then take a few swigs myself.  Fuckin rawk, Skiv.  Look in the mirror and my makeup's running.
Thinking about Skiv makes me think about Dieter, makes me wonder where the hell he is.  In '83, he didn't show up for a gig so we had to cancel.  Detroit was pissed.  Went back to the hotel thinking we'd find him dead in the bathroom like Skiv, but he was just gone, and he didn't even take his stuff.  Turns out he talked to Buddha and caught a plane to Russia or someplace to find him.  Kinda sad to lose Dieter.  Fuckin rawked hard.  Hope he's happy, wherever he is.  Hope he found Buddha.
Thinking about Dieter makes
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Literature
Coyle's Dream
Coyle was wearing a tweed suit and a strained grimace as he slogged from the restroom to his table for two.  It was draped in brown cloth, veiled in pale sunlight, embellished in the center with a frumpy beige tulip drowning in a shallow plastic vase of green water.  The table was propped up against a window looking out onto the Plaza and was set up such that he could peer morosely out at the streets without looking like a recluse, so he would seem momentarily miserable without looking like a long-term loner.  He wanted to come across as ditched, stood-up, not as some freshly divorced deadbeat drunk nobody.
He threw down a slug of wine and watched the dopey men in ties and creased pants pass by the window arm-in-arm with their flowery-skirted wives.  Everyone was summery.  In July, this place stayed the same midwestern shithole it always was, but people satisfied themselves with the delusion that the growl of traffic was really the soft whisper of the ocean, that the blue-black grackle
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Literature
The Apple Thing
My only problem with the girl was the way she ate her apples.  She would always skin them first, with her teeth.  Sometimes it'd take her ten minutes.  What's the point of even eating an apple if it takes you ten minutes to skin it?  She'd peel the whole thing naked and leave these long, red curls of apple skin on her plate, which was disgusting enough.  But the noise it made, Christ.  It'd make you cringe to hear it.  Other than that, though, she was really something.  I never brought up the apple thing.
She took work off for a few days and drove off to visit her folks.  I stayed around the apartment like always.  The first day, I fetched the paper in the morning and sat up in bed with a sharpie, circling some jobs I could do without having to kill myself or anything.  In the afternoon, I rode my bike downtown, just to get out.  It was raining, but I rode anyway.  I've never had a problem with rain.
The second day, I got the idea in my head to clean the apartment.  The girl always use
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Block List by LettuceEat Block List :iconlettuceeat:LettuceEat 11 21
Literature
Making Time
Vacation with the Buxleys was unbearable. They were all about numbers. 197 miles to Scottsbluff. 24 minutes to the next Flying J. Barometric pressure is 29.1 and dropping. And they didn't just talk numbers; they brawled numbers. If any of the three Buxley machines - man, woman, or prepubescent - committed an error minute as a hundredth of a percent, it was the job of the other two to gang up on the mistaken party and chastise until all of their boxy foreheads were dewy with computational perspiration. This is why I hadn't said anything in 150 miles. 156, to be exact.
What started as a well-meant ploy by my mother to get me out of town for a week had now escalated into a hostage situation. I was perched in the backseat of a plasticky SUV with a strange family, afflicted with reading-in-the-car queasiness and a terminal no-rest-stop-for-300-miles bladder infection. My trip was spent staring absently out the window, pointedly avoiding any sort of dialogue with the Buxleys' ghastly, rabbit
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deviantID

LettuceEat
Keef
United States
Current Residence: Korea, south of the border.
Skin of choice: Potato
Interests
An award?  An award!  I have won an award!  
I would like to thank the academy -
but oh where is the podium?  Where are the slobbering masses?  Where is the award?  Where are my pants?  

Have I really arrived a year and eleven months too late?  Are my adoring fans dead in the ground, or kept busy by internet erotica addictions?  

Apologies for my mysteriousness.  I was kept busy by an internet erotica addiction.

-LettuceEat

Comments


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:iconfushkah-mongke:
FUSHKAH-MONGKE Featured By Owner Feb 6, 2009
hey! check this out! I just saw who my Secret VALENTINE WAS !! it really works.. see who your VALENTINE is just CLICK HERE
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:iconcathori:
Cathori Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2007
It's impossible to read your scrap poems due to the new DA format. This is dissapointing, because your scrap poems were better then anything else I've read here on DA, an better then a much of what I've read outside DA as well. For the sake of inspiration at least please fix this
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:iconlivingbyair:
livingbyair Featured By Owner Apr 11, 2005  Hobbyist Writer
hm
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:iconesotericsean:
esotericsean Featured By Owner Apr 11, 2005  Professional Filmographer
a daily deviantion awarded for something submitted over a year ago by someone who hasn't been active for over 2 and a half months.

i'm not saying it shouldn't have been selected, but it's sorta unusual. and the poor guy doesn't even know he received an award. :hmm:
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:iconhellodolly:
hellodolly Featured By Owner Apr 11, 2005
did dennis rodman really right a book?
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:iconsollunestraa:
sollunestraa Featured By Owner Apr 11, 2005
I wish you were still here. Saw your DD and read all of your poems. In. Love. I'm going to watch just in case you come back and/or I want to read your work again. Which I'm pretty sure I will.
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:iconlettuceeat:
LettuceEat Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2007
Hello!
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:iconjerilyn:
jerilyn Featured By Owner Apr 11, 2005
I love all the writings here. I wish you'd come back and do some more...
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:icondampes8n:
DampeS8N Featured By Owner Apr 11, 2005
yes.. they are still here
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