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	<title>The Fabric of Memory</title>
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	<description>by M.L. H'art.</description>
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		<title>The Fabric of Memory</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com</link>
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			<item>
		<title>Ed Said.</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/10/19/ed-said/</link>
		<comments>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/10/19/ed-said/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 19 Oct 2009 23:28:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mlhart</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Creative Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Creativity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Health]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Language]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[True Story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[music]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Chakra and music]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Healing power of gongs]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mlhart.wordpress.com/?p=292</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Ed said: the note of G, the color red, one earth day – twenty three hours and fifty seven minutes – are all born of the same harmony. C sharp and blue-green, one earth year – the same.
The harmony of sound and light and time and being all wavering at equal frequency.
The chakra a grounding force of [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mlhart.wordpress.com&blog=2810659&post=292&subd=mlhart&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>Broken Butterfly Wings.</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/10/07/broken-butterfly-wings/</link>
		<comments>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/10/07/broken-butterfly-wings/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 07 Oct 2009 18:07:51 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mlhart</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Creative Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Health]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Language]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Meanderings]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mlhart.wordpress.com/?p=285</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Lying in dream, hospital bed covered by a shed of broken butterfly wings, the doctor says: you’re pregnant.
Real life me, she knows nothing of swollen belly or hard contractions or broken water.
Push, the doctor orders, pressing cold cloth to my now beaded brow.
The pain, its real life hurt and dream me lets out yelps of [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mlhart.wordpress.com&blog=2810659&post=285&subd=mlhart&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">M. L. H'art</media:title>
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		<title>Playin&#8217; Odds.</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/10/07/playin-odds/</link>
		<comments>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/10/07/playin-odds/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 07 Oct 2009 18:04:30 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mlhart</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Health]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Language]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Research]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mlhart.wordpress.com/?p=282</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[He doesn’t tell me I have cancer.
Instead, he says: adenomatous polyposis. He says: genetic abnormality. He says: follicular thyroid carcinoma.
I say: I’m fucking tired of the Latin, doc.
He says: it’s nothing. A small incision and we’re through here.
The date wrote down in my schedule and his, a handshake out the door and he doesn’t know I [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mlhart.wordpress.com&blog=2810659&post=282&subd=mlhart&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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			<media:title type="html">M. L. H'art</media:title>
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		<title>Old Blood.</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/09/18/old-blood/</link>
		<comments>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/09/18/old-blood/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 18 Sep 2009 00:17:02 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mlhart</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Health]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Language]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[True Story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Cayman Islands]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Chernobyl]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Dart Fortune]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Medical Experiment]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mlhart.wordpress.com/?p=274</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[“You from the Cayman Islands?” words muffled through paper.
Catching armpits on crutches, patient chart pinched between central incisors, his foot is broken.
“No, I’m not.”
“You should be. Your last name – it’s the same last name of the foam cup king. You know the one – the baron who invented Styrofoam coffee cups. He owns half [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mlhart.wordpress.com&blog=2810659&post=274&subd=mlhart&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">M. L. H'art</media:title>
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		<title>Supernumerary.</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/08/31/supernumerary/</link>
		<comments>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/08/31/supernumerary/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 31 Aug 2009 22:36:02 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mlhart</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Creativity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Language]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Known you all along]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Supernumerary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Tesselate]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mlhart.wordpress.com/?p=269</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[We talk about pets and god and art and memory.
The philosophy comes easy and when he says to me, it’s like I’ve known you all along, I laugh but don’t talk. The words, they’re not tongue-tip close, and the giggle, it bounds up out of my throat before I can slap a hand over puckered [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mlhart.wordpress.com&blog=2810659&post=269&subd=mlhart&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">M. L. H'art</media:title>
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		<item>
		<title>Wahton.</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/08/25/wahton/</link>
		<comments>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/08/25/wahton/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 25 Aug 2009 21:14:46 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mlhart</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Creativity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Health]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Language]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Meanderings]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Inconclusive Test Results]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[The Doctor's Call]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[The Waiting Game]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mlhart.wordpress.com/?p=263</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Waiting.
in line, too long, impatiently.
Wait for.
your turn, the weekend, it.
Wait until.
The Call.
Hello, she says, hello how are you feeling? Have you been well? Sorry for the wait.
The wait: stationary readiness and the hold of expectation; a pause – please catch up! Be available, attentive and attending – be ready to realize the unrealized.
The result?
Inconclusive, she [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mlhart.wordpress.com&blog=2810659&post=263&subd=mlhart&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/08/25/wahton/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">M. L. H'art</media:title>
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		<item>
		<title>Graves.</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/08/17/graves/</link>
		<comments>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/08/17/graves/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 17 Aug 2009 19:51:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mlhart</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Creative Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Health]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sex]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[True Story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Adam's Apple]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Biopsy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Butterflies]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Greek Physician Galen]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Thyroid]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mlhart.wordpress.com/?p=259</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I slept with the butterfly, allowed it to flap up inside, flutter by hymen, forewing flickering cervix up to vulva; pushing proboscis past anatomical barriers, this butterfly trembled through cardia and corpus, tickled curvature, great and less. Thorax and tarsi prickling pharynx and larynx, a long climb up the vertebral, it dug its palps right [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mlhart.wordpress.com&blog=2810659&post=259&subd=mlhart&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">M. L. H'art</media:title>
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		<item>
		<title>Anamorning.</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/08/05/anamorning/</link>
		<comments>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/08/05/anamorning/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 05 Aug 2009 22:28:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mlhart</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Anamorphism]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Literary Nonsense]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mary Ann & Lewis Carroll]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Running Late]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[The White Rabbit]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mlhart.wordpress.com/?p=257</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[On the step just out the front door, he’s waiting for me again.
Every morning for the past four, he waits, his nose a nervous twitch-tick he can’t control – flaring nostrils scrunching the bridge.
Each morning following me down the path toward the train, his gait a lumbering trip-hop-step, he asks if he can call me [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mlhart.wordpress.com&blog=2810659&post=257&subd=mlhart&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">M. L. H'art</media:title>
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		<item>
		<title>Phasmotor</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/phasmotor/</link>
		<comments>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/phasmotor/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jul 2009 21:05:49 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mlhart</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Creative Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Creativity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Language]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Meanderings]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Motorphobia]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Phasmophobia]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Road Tripping]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[TransCanada]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mlhart.wordpress.com/?p=255</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Driving the highway late at night, I collect souls.
Pushed between the crevice of rock and hard drop, I find Felicia: whitewashed wooden stakes bound with weather-beaten fabric flowers, a cross bearing the moment she steered astray, drunk eyes guiding bald-smooth wheels of the sienna-rusted Taurus right into the mountain wall, brains and best intentions sprayed [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mlhart.wordpress.com&blog=2810659&post=255&subd=mlhart&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/phasmotor/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">M. L. H'art</media:title>
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		<item>
		<title>Ten Years Late.</title>
		<link>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/07/06/ten-years-late/</link>
		<comments>http://mlhart.wordpress.com/2009/07/06/ten-years-late/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 06 Jul 2009 17:24:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mlhart</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Creative Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[True Story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[A Long Time Since]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[A Selfish Way to Die]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rope Burn]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Ten Years Late]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mlhart.wordpress.com/?p=247</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Ten years ago this month, your skin in ash-blue pucker, flattened veins surface-close, I cried on the shoulder of the all-star volleyball  jock who, if we were still in school, wouldn’t have held my hand and passed me a Kleenex when your mother, stone faced and sure, said you were happier now.
Lid wide open in [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mlhart.wordpress.com&blog=2810659&post=247&subd=mlhart&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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