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	<title>PaulsPen</title>
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	<description>Essays, fiction, poetry, stuff</description>
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		<title>Testing a private post</title>
		<link>http://paulspen.com/testing-a-privae-post/</link>
		<comments>http://paulspen.com/testing-a-privae-post/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 18 Jan 2010 15:57:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>p.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://paulspen.com/?p=73</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Just doing this to see if it is revealed or not and what it might look like. I think I can go here to just type bullshit and the have it available anywhere, or so I think.]]></description>
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		<title>O Bod</title>
		<link>http://paulspen.com/o-bod/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 02 Jan 2010 00:15:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>p.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[you cringe when I say you are beautiful. yeah sure, you mumble, eyes downturned, rolling, like it pains you to look at me looking at you. even in the afterglow of lovemaking, in the dark no less! you swiftly pull the sheet to your chin to step back inside yourself, like a thick, down coat. <a href='http://paulspen.com/o-bod/'>[...]</a>]]></description>
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		<title>The Coffin Path</title>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 31 Dec 2009 14:29:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>p.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Features]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Part travelogue, part literary history, part memoir, this essay offers a glimpse into the power of literature and nature to heal the human body and soothe the human spirit. This piece is still in the works, but I wanted to post it for all those who have asked for it. &#8230;To fear and love, To love as <a href='http://paulspen.com/the-coffin-path/'>[...]</a>]]></description>
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		<title>The Thirty-Third Street Club</title>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 21 Nov 2008 02:28:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>p.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Awarded New Millennium Fiction Prize First appeared in New Millennium Writings, Winter 1997 let me tell you somethin Runnin as quick as these stupid high heels will carry me, and over my shoulder I see Amahl comin up behind me. Ain&#8217;t runnin, but walkin real fast so he don&#8217;t attract no attention. The street crowded <a href='http://paulspen.com/the-thirty-third-street-club/'>[...]</a>]]></description>
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		<title>Harlem jazz club: 1988</title>
		<link>http://paulspen.com/harlem-jazz-club-1988/</link>
		<comments>http://paulspen.com/harlem-jazz-club-1988/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 27 Dec 2007 03:50:23 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>p.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[          Old hairnet woman in big glasses passes over the bar, smellin of sweet smoke, rum and coke, checkin out the only white face in the damn place, it&#8217;s me, see? and a baby compared to old timers who stare, drinkin alone, no drone of conversation, the ventilation system workin overtime this time, everyone sweatin <a href='http://paulspen.com/harlem-jazz-club-1988/'>[...]</a>]]></description>
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