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	<title>The Daedalus Review</title>
	<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com</link>
	<description>An Online Literary Journal</description>
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		<title>Cubicle</title>
		<description><![CDATA[By Justin Alvarez&#160; &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;A steadfast rain dissimulates the carpeted silence of the office, the piddling sounds of breathing, the squeaks of cheap dress shoes and the creaks of rusty swivel chairs. I lean forward to dial a phone number, the &#8230; <a href="http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/119">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
		<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/119</link>
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		<title>Ecuador</title>
		<description><![CDATA[By Jeff Klooger&#160; After the paintings of Gonzalo Endara Crow Why is it in our country trains roll across the trackless sky? Why are the hills puce and mauve? Why do the trees bring forth bouquets of fairy-floss pink? Green &#8230; <a href="http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/167">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
		<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/167</link>
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		<title>Glads</title>
		<description><![CDATA[By George Bishop&#160; For Gladys I watched a woman fall apart when her husband dropped dead at her feet. Not a soul went back to the house after that, where gladiolas lined the fence and one by one they stopped &#8230; <a href="http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/156">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
		<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/156</link>
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		<title>Your Septic Tank Has Exploded</title>
		<description><![CDATA[By William Doreski&#160; Your septic tank has exploded, your books tumbled from their shelves. Rather than reshelf, you’ll sell your house and move to Rhode Island where the big tame bay flatters islands gone shapeless and adrift and ruined old &#8230; <a href="http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/164">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
		<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/164</link>
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		<title>Girl With Bougainvillea</title>
		<description><![CDATA[By Christopher Woods&#160; &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;She passes now, at seven in the evening. Down there, below. She does not seem to notice the bougainvillea, or the lone mango tree. She does not see the way the sun hangs heavy on the wall, &#8230; <a href="http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/146">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
		<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/146</link>
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		<title>Bugger-off</title>
		<description><![CDATA[By Paul Piatkowski&#160; Mum draws the blackout curtains— don’t want to attract doddlebugs when we sit down for dinner. They come out and sting on nights like this. I wish our dinner had more flavor, more spice. Sissy was still &#8230; <a href="http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/171">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
		<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/171</link>
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		<title>Fly on the Wall</title>
		<description><![CDATA[By Ilan Herman&#160; &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;I first noticed the fly on the wall three days ago, while dining at Ming’s, a Chinese restaurant I frequent daily. I smiled at the fly, whom I’d decided to name Ernie, and proceeded with breakfast. Ernie &#8230; <a href="http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/193">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
		<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/193</link>
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		<title>Painters&#8217; Exhalations 470</title>
		<description><![CDATA[By Felino A. Soriano&#160; —after Paule Vézelay’s Two Forms Holding Two Ovals Moon forms a wicker basket’s rough-edged silhouette, planted on branch arm’s dedicated clutch, &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;hiding in its muscular hold dust lying on its lamenting side, &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;physically rising from its &#8230; <a href="http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/174">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
		<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/174</link>
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		<title>The Last Story</title>
		<description><![CDATA[By Janann Dawkins&#160; Too many mistakes, too many times Indirection left unanswered. What news May have entered the grid, what scintillating Rumors shaped the way we Understand the world? Too late Songbirds tell us to play on instinct. Such a &#8230; <a href="http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/160">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
		<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/160</link>
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		<title>Factuality</title>
		<description><![CDATA[By Richard F. Yates&#160; In poetry I can lie like a sonnuvabitch and get away with it Because the truth of a poem isn&#8217;t related to its historical factuality It&#8217;s in the fingers of the wind wrinkles on memories and &#8230; <a href="http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/190">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
		<link>http://www.daedalusreview.com/archives/190</link>
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