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		<title>ANTHONY PERALES | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/h69423</link>
		<description>The original writings of author ANTHONY PERALES</description>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>ABALONE SHELL</title>
			<description>Graffiti coveredstones litterthe once pristineshoreline like&amp;nbsp;crude markersover forgotten&amp;nbsp;graves.Shattered andshucked Abalone&amp;nbsp;lay about likeenemy bodies&amp;nbsp;across a losingbattle field.Is there&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;no onewhole enoughto count thesecasualties.Tide pools sit&amp;nbsp;like silent&amp;nbsp;..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1377261/</link>
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			<title>Glossy Vision Girl</title>
			<description>Glossy Vision GirlThe first thought Iencountered was ,this poor girldoes not eat.As our friendshipdeveloped intomore than&amp;nbsp;I ever imaginedit would&amp;nbsp;I discovered she&amp;nbsp;did indeed eat.When I&amp;nbsp;say eat&amp;nbsp;I mean more likedemolished all&amp;nbsp;that&amp;nbsp;was presented&amp;nbsp;before her.Her so..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1351039/</link>
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			<title>The Chase</title>
			<description>These days run awaylike criminals whoflee.Taking with themall of what I neverdid.This regret remainsfresh just as honeynever ages.And there's that bloodred stain where my need&amp;nbsp;for the hurt leakedonto the floor.Somewhere beneaththose times andthese years laysa reason that's fightingto be underst..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1335341/</link>
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			<title>No Need To Walk On Water</title>
			<description>The moon light rippledacross the sea.A shine full of&amp;nbsp;might that burned against theswells as quiet as dust.The waves crashed andPoseidon laughed as I restedthe bottle againstmy teeth.I smiled forthe momentthen drank forthe ages.Stones shifted with thetide,gentle and sometimesas silent as mice.Sh..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1334941/</link>
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			<title>Some Need It So Bad (It's Death Once They Get It) </title>
			<description>There is no set price toits worth.It is not polished jade,poached ivory&amp;nbsp;nor a vase dated&amp;nbsp;by a dynasty.It is hearts blood drawnto hearts blood.And it provides a warmththat no poppy can&amp;nbsp;produce.It drives some mad,until they're leftpeering into the bottle,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;pounding..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1330084/</link>
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			<title>Leaving California</title>
			<description>I aimed the old car&amp;nbsp;south and&amp;nbsp;ran as many red&amp;nbsp;lights as the Godswould allow.Kept my sunglasses&amp;nbsp;on as I&amp;nbsp;listened to Frusciantesinging&amp;nbsp;nothing but the&amp;nbsp;truth all through&amp;nbsp;my radio.Left the madness ofthe city and&amp;nbsp;entered the&amp;nbsp;land where&amp;nbsp;atomic&amp;nbsp;&amp;n..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1330078/</link>
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			<title>Alley Talk</title>
			<description>To be Lovedis mostlytemporary and attimes a lie.But to be missedto be rememberedlasts as long as&amp;nbsp;a memoryand is about asreal as it's evergoing to get.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1330076/</link>
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			<title>Magic in the Morning</title>
			<description></description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1328651/</link>
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			<title>Forlorn And Never Alone</title>
			<description>Forlorn And Never AloneSlumped over again,bad posture.Running a fingertip aroundthe edge of ahighball glass.Lost track of howmany times life has ledto this.Drinking but far&amp;nbsp;from drunk.Using and stillnot high.Alone and stillcrowded by thememories.Took in allof the empty throughbloodshot eyesthat..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1328648/</link>
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			<title>Waiting on A Hero</title>
			<description>You can see it&amp;nbsp;in the twitch thatticks with every step.Or the unblinking eyesthat stare at the angelwho isn't there.You can hear it in&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;mumblingthey call conversation,or the screams filled&amp;nbsp;with terror that theyrelease in the night.They've been confinedand accused,prosecuted an..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1328289/</link>
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			<title>Native doctrine</title>
			<description>She taught me&amp;nbsp;about the way of things andabout the gifts that lay allaround us.Her lessons were taught in&amp;nbsp;the old way,through stories and songs.I learned the most in the winter&amp;nbsp;months when the deserts claycolored floor was drapedin thick high desertsnow.&amp;nbsp;She burned hickory and bi..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1328284/</link>
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			<title>What About Tomorrow</title>
			<description>My days ago&amp;nbsp;are piledwith excess.My days ahead,cloudedwith letting&amp;nbsp;go.This day today,emptyas the bottle&amp;nbsp;laying nextto me.And there'sno way&amp;nbsp;to growyoung again.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1328278/</link>
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			<title>What I Make Of Grey</title>
			<description>free writting</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/h69423/1328273/</link>
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