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		<title>just_teague | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/just_teague</link>
		<description>The original writings of author just_teague</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776060984</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>The Scientist. </title>
			<description>My father hatedthe color yellow. It drove him crazy, and he would become overcome withuncontrollable panic and hysteria, most bluntly expressed as rage. He could neverride the bus to school, and for this reason he was particularly placed in whatI can..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1263518/</link>
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			<title>Cannibelle.</title>
			<description>Prompt was: why would a baker refuse to leave town?</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1263515/</link>
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			<title>Alpha Minus. </title>
			<description>watching a fox clean its bloodied jaws in the snow.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1262875/</link>
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			<title>A few words or so.</title>
			<description>I fell in love with a paper fool. And became drunk from the flow of it. </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1262649/</link>
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			<title>Undergraduation. </title>
			<description>Maybe it&amp;rsquo;s just because I&amp;rsquo;m trying to fit too much into mybrain at once. It feels that way sometimes, like parts of my head aretrying to escape.Those thoughts pull at my skull and skin:giwedinoong prayers and ST-elevated myocardial infarctions,..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1262605/</link>
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			<title>Brother, lover, writer</title>
			<description>:ars poetica</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1262553/</link>
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			<title>When I'm far away.</title>
			<description>out of our playing with rocks and fire came early science.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1262540/</link>
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			<title>Nil. </title>
			<description> grope for luna, gaze over the edge of it.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1202007/</link>
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			<title>Design Aesthetic.</title>
			<description>oh turpentine erase me whole...</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1198723/</link>
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			<title>BPB.</title>
			<description> winter walks, boozy tuesdays, and the silly way we laugh when we're not even amused, placeholder photographs, rainstorms under a crooked small umbrella.

:action, re-action:</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1196149/</link>
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			<title>uneven exerpt</title>
			<description>your wings crust and rot
uselessly at your side, never opened</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1194035/</link>
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			<title>blue-bound</title>
			<description>to the first boy I ever loved</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1192908/</link>
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			<title>discordant love poem.</title>
			<description>to my baron, who was at least clever enough to let me slip away.
        

none of the games are any good. 
they do no good.
</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1163659/</link>
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			<title>Revamped.</title>
			<description>byronic expressions. punkaroo, sometimes when you stay up too late you become every insomniac in the city. you learn to love yourself for being so lonely. </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1147522/</link>
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			<title>Ground Zero. </title>
			<description>(new york, new york.) you are here in whole or I will eat you alive. </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1147521/</link>
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			<title>Resolution.</title>
			<description>still, the bird flies.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1122523/</link>
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			<title>Yes, maybe, yes.</title>
			<description>&quot;So I guess I'm just asking if you'd like some wine for tonight.&quot;
</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1114794/</link>
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			<title>I was you once. </title>
			<description>it's our luxury game,

my treat-- your test. </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1106262/</link>
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			<title>Arcadia</title>
			<description>Blind, like one whom sleep
comes over in a swoon, I stumbled
into darkness and went down. </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1098107/</link>
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			<title>Darling Charisma. </title>
			<description>The blood flows from my heart more forcefully than the blood to my heart,
the pressure in these angry arteries.
</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1095865/</link>
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			<title>Discordant collaboration. </title>
			<description>valentine evenings courtesy of the lonely prince.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1075022/</link>
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			<title>Night Vision.</title>
			<description>lost Skype calls, clipped conversations, fragmentation of written correspondence, all abruptly ending with &quot;you know I love you the most&quot;</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1068906/</link>
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			<title>The Abandoned Screenplay</title>
			<description>fictitious surroundings of a high school friend. perhaps drawn out of proportion. but perhaps my delusions were more accurate to what it was.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/just_teague/1068386/</link>
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