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	<title>Literal Latte &#187; Essays</title>
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	<link>http://www.literal-latte.com</link>
	<description>A Journal of Poetry, Prose and Art</description>
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		<title>Addicted to Chad</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2011/05/addicted-to-chad/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2011/05/addicted-to-chad/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 May 2011 04:02:37 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Michael Varga</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[contest winner]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=1477</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<strong>Second Prize, 2010 Literal Latte Essay Award.</strong> When I was a child and my parents argued, my father used to escape to the basement and listen to his short-wave radio. Growing up in Philadelphia, I knew nothing of a wider world until I snuck down to the cluttered, messy cellar and eavesdropped behind the stacks of magic-markered wooden storage boxes and shelves of re-labeled peanut butter jars of nails and screws. ]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>8</slash:comments>
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		<title>With These Shackles I Thee Wed</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2011/05/with-these-shackles-i-thee-wed/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2011/05/with-these-shackles-i-thee-wed/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 May 2011 04:00:45 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cullen McVoy</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[contest winner]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Contests]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=1499</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<strong>First Prize, 2010 Literal Latte Essay Award.</em></strong>It was a time when guys were cats, gals were chicks, the police were pigs, and spray-can graffiti said things like, "Up against the wall, Motherfucker!" [....]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
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		<title>Book of Hours</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2010/03/book-of-hours/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2010/03/book-of-hours/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 05 Mar 2010 16:13:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Gina P. Vozenilek</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[contest winner]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Contests]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=1194</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<strong>Second Prize, 2009 Literal Latte Essay Award.</strong> The ground comfortable as any bed. A whistle of grass between your teeth. The green blanket tickling and sticking to your sunburned arms, your thighs, the fleshy backs of your hands where they cross beneath your head. <em>A rabbit! An elephant . . . now a truck. There: a whale!</em> The wind swells high overhead in the trees. You recline with all the world above you, all before you, fluid and beautiful and endless. You are six[...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>5</slash:comments>
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		<title>Spring</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2010/03/spring/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2010/03/spring/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 05 Mar 2010 15:10:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Ella Wilson</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=1190</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[When my mother died the nurse came running. I heard her feet, muffled and far, thudding down the carpeted corridor. A hospice is no place for running; no one is there to be saved, there are no emergencies. If someone dies it is not a failure. They have fulfilled their part of the bargain. But [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>10</slash:comments>
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		<title>God of Books</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2009/06/god-of-books/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2009/06/god-of-books/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 10 Jun 2009 03:36:09 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Margi Fox</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[contest winner]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Contests]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=821</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<b>First Prize 2009 Latte Essay Awards.</b> My uncle Henry Robbins was the God of Books. When a massive heart attack felled him at New York's 14th Street subway station nearly three decades ago, he was also Dutton's Editor-in-Chief. Others may have written the books, but he brought them full blown to life[...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
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		<title>The Pedagogy of Decoration</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2009/03/the-pedagogy-of-decoration/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2009/03/the-pedagogy-of-decoration/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 05 Mar 2009 19:41:17 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Rachel Toliver</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=409</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[My greatest challenge as a Seventh-Grade English teacher in &#8220;inner-city&#8221; Brooklyn was to gain firm control — not of my classroom — but of a pair of scissors. In the three years I spent in the public school system, I was an interior decorator- a sort of pedagogical Martha Stewart — almost as much as [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<title>All Aboard — or Maybe Not</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2009/03/all-aboard-or-maybe-not/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2009/03/all-aboard-or-maybe-not/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 03 Mar 2009 16:19:42 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Lynne Sharon Schwartz</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=545</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The thought of traveling always fills me with dread.  I approach any major trip, no matter how delightful it promises to be, wondering, How will I cope?  What will become of me?  There are many ways to deal with travel anxiety — the best of which, in my view, is to stay home.  Until last [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<title>A Sort of Welcoming</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/11/a-sort-of-welcoming/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/11/a-sort-of-welcoming/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Nov 2008 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Karen Benning</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/04/18/a-sort-of-welcoming/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[José Bonifácio de Andrada e Silva cups his hands and blows into them, the hot breath of hope on a cold day. Far from his native home of Brazil, he walks along the edge of a tiny island off Sweden. This is no leisurely stroll on some sunny, sandy beach. The frigid Baltic Sea surrounds [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<title>The Fox Breaks The Code</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/11/the-fox-breaks-the-code/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/11/the-fox-breaks-the-code/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Nov 2008 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Annie Dawid</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/06/13/the-fox-breaks-the-code/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[In his will, my 87-year-old lawyer father included the proviso that the definition of grandchildren who would benefit from his estate included, in addition to any extant grandchildren, &#8220;any child born to any of my three children up to and including nine months from the date of my death.&#8221; What was he thinking? That one [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>The Camphor Suitcase</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/11/the-camphor-suitcase/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/11/the-camphor-suitcase/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Nov 2008 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Xujun Eberlein</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/06/13/the-camphor-suitcase/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[In the recent Year of the Snake — I remember because it&#8217;s my daughter&#8217;s sign — the image of a maroon suitcase made of camphor wood began to follow me like a phantom. It became most vivid in the dusk as I drove home from work, when my mind was free from corporate politics and [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>I Made It Myself</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/11/i-made-it-myself/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/11/i-made-it-myself/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Nov 2008 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>James Gollin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/2008/06/13/i-made-it-myself/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The year was 1958. Needs were jostling one another in my fretful mind. My chief concern was measuring up to the promise of a marvelous marriage. This was all tangled up with making things. We loved making things together, partly because we were too broke to buy them, but mostly because the making was fun. [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<title>14 Crossings</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2005/08/14-crossings/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2005/08/14-crossings/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 21 Aug 2005 19:12:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Ken Sonenclar</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=62</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The modernist Marcel Duchamp once argued that America's only contribution to art (aside from phenomenal plumbing) are her bridges. My four-year-old twins might agree. ]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<title>Jury Duty</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/2000/06/jury-duty/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/2000/06/jury-duty/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jun 2000 17:16:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Tyler C. Gore</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=903</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I knew it was a mistake to vote. There's something un-American about voting, after all. I mean, sure, it's great that we can vote, but to actually go through it — to get hold of one of those hard-to-find registration forms, fill it out, wait for your voting card in the mail and then show up on a workday at some high school you never heard of and stand on line to pull a lever on those ancient machines — well, if you ask me, it all smacks of some kind of nutty European socialism.]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>A Day at the Beach</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/1999/07/a-day-at-the-beach/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/1999/07/a-day-at-the-beach/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 02 Jul 1999 21:53:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Tyler C. Gore</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=200</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[On Thursday, I took a water taxi out to the Fire Island lighthouse museum with Lucy and her family. The museum was closed, but the park ranger was nice enough to let us in to watch a video about the lighthouse. "It's very homemade," she warned us as she popped it in the VCR, thus defusing my <em>sneering cynicism</em> before I could even get it started. Afterwards, Lucy and her family took the water taxi back, but I decided to walk, lured by rumors of a nude beach in the vicinity[...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>Dining in French</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/1999/03/dining-in-french/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/1999/03/dining-in-french/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 03 Mar 1999 01:41:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Patricia Lynne Duffy</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=248</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[One of the unifying features of domestic France is a network of window boxes that burst with cascading geraniums of the brightest pink. I have observed this window box network from the soft stone houses of Bordeaux in the south to the brightly beamed buildings of Brittany in the north, and have speculated that it [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>Pictures in the Mud</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/1998/12/pictures-in-the-mud/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/1998/12/pictures-in-the-mud/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Dec 1998 15:50:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kay Sloan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=1167</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[One afternoon in late June, my three year old daughter skipped out of her playhouse with her toy telephone in hand and announced, "Mamaw has a new brother! And we have a new uncle! And he wants to talk to you! He's sick...."]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>The Moa Stalker</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/1996/07/the-moa-stalker/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/1996/07/the-moa-stalker/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 20 Jul 1996 16:06:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>John M. Edwards</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=579</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[In Auckland, New Zealand, I was roosting in the common room of this crap budget flophouse, perusing my guidebook and gearing up to fly to Fiji soon despite a recent military coup, when the heated roundtable discussion of the relative cleanliness and cheapness of Kiwi backpacker hostels was interrupted by a scruffy young dolebludger[...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>If Men Could Menstruate</title>
		<link>http://www.literal-latte.com/1994/06/if-men-could-menstruate/</link>
		<comments>http://www.literal-latte.com/1994/06/if-men-could-menstruate/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 17 Jun 1994 22:11:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Gloria Steinem</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.literal-latte.com/?p=768</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Living in India made me understand that a white minority of the world has spent centuries conning us into thinking a white skin makes people superior, even though the only thing it really does is make them more subject to ultraviolet rays and wrinkles[...]]]></description>
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