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		<title>Bee Oxford | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Bee_Oxford</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Bee Oxford</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Only in Florida</title>
			<description>comments suggested I should laughat the video on my instagram feedof an aligator crawling across a cul de sacalong with the the words &quot;only in florida&quot;Her scaley paws on the pavement, imperviousand the houses there all brand newa policeman watches and waitsunsure of what to doI'd like to tell him:br..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2885484/</link>
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			<title>New Years Resolutions</title>
			<description>New Years Resolutions:quit smokingread a booklearn a languagelearn to cookreduce your stressmake a messdrink more,I mean...drink lesswaste timecommit a crimesit in trafficwait in linelose weightmasturbatepiss,fart,and fall apartmake some moneymake some artdrink some water&quot;have a heart&quot;get highstart ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2875482/</link>
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			<title>I Quit Smoking</title>
			<description>I quit smokingwhich means I now hate the squeek in my boots and my neighbors big dumb dick-hole of a dogI hate the dishes you left in the sinkand when you get food stuck in your teethI hate people taking photos and holding hands on the streetI hate latte foam art and well written emailswhen yoga ins..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2859535/</link>
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			<title>My Mom Came To Visit Me</title>
			<description>My mom came to visit meI wasn't very nice or patient or kindI was self-absorbed, cruel and rudeand why?Because she snaps her fingers together to get crumbs off when she eatsBecause she didn't understand somethingBecause she wanted to touch me. Rub my arm. Kiss my cheek.and I flinched away like an as..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2859532/</link>
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			<title>Waiting</title>
			<description>In an airport somewhere people are considering snacksThey are taking their shoes off and putting them back on againThey are sleeping and zipping up baggage,Sipping their coffee and tugging at toddlers.And who is waiting for their tires to touch a tarmac?What a romantic, dreadful, w..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2832402/</link>
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			<title>Tomorrow</title>
			<description>When I bought them at the store I thought:I&amp;rsquo;m just buying more moldand I knowWhen I finally open this thin plastic box&amp;rsquo;s corner buttonsThat&amp;rsquo;s what I&amp;rsquo;ll seeAll mold, the whole damn box bloomingAnd no blackberry.&amp;nbsp;And I know I'll buy themAgain.To be rotten and forgottenBlan..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2807117/</link>
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			<title>Robin</title>
			<description>He's out thereI'm in hereHim with the sun on his feathers, looking for a wiggling wormMe on my couch cold coffee in my cupLate for a job I hope to god they fire me forI feel indifferent towards the robinWith war worrying my mindMore likely ill write a poem about a cityFilled with broken glass and as..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2806719/</link>
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			<title>Still Life: A Love Poem</title>
			<description>Our keys hang on hooks in the wallOur shoes cuddle by the doorOur clothes mingle on the floorOur dishes soak in the sinkForeign authors lean on unexpected shoulders on a shelfYour soap looks so comfortable in my soap dishEvery day I find usPlainly painted perfectlyIn a still lifeAnd I smile sweetly ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2806517/</link>
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			<title>Home</title>
			<description>When searching for a place to live I want to request that in the middle of the night I'll hear a train whistle.That i'll find tulips in the tiles.I want a big blue house with 3 porches,One for each of us.And an overgrown walnut tree in a neighbor's yardOverreachingTadpoles squirming in a plastic poo..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2806516/</link>
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			<title>The Expensive Winos</title>
			<description>Hung in my closet: My only constant in clothes.My dad's old band T shirt,The Expensive WinosHe was my age in the year disappearing behind my backIt used to have a clear picture,It used to be a brilliant blackStretched out, soft, familiar fabricGrants gorgeous sleepI climb out of bed, brush my teethA..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2806514/</link>
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			<title>Pot Holes</title>
			<description>On my way to work I know where all the pot holes areI avoid them when I'm driving your carLong lines,Loud laughs,When the sun beats down and you start to sweatI know how to avoid all the things that make youAgitated, angry, upset.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2806513/</link>
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			<title>Carry On</title>
			<description>In the Sonoran desert a vietnamese restaurant claims to be:Authentic.A billboard promises:Career services for life.You can pull-n-save for auto and truck partsand somewhere teenagers are baking brownies on a dashboardCome to try a cactus cooler,The Taco Bell has breakfastMy dad is drinking and drunk..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2806512/</link>
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			<title>Friends</title>
			<description>If You Are &quot;Friends&quot;You don't cuddle on the couchYou don't spit water into each other's mouthsYou don't kiss each other's cheeksYou definitely don't share a bathYou don't flash your tit at them to make them laughYou don't read with your head in their lapYou don't dance, well at least not like thatYo..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2806511/</link>
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			<title>Sweet Potatoes</title>
			<description>I used to buy sweet potatoes&amp;nbsp;Every time I went to the store.My partner doesn't like them.I realize: I never buy them anymore.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bee_Oxford/2806510/</link>
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