Most discussed stories

Making Small Things

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We were the same and different. I was wild, wild, and she was calm. A pair of dolls we were. Holding hands in thin white dresses. Running through fields. Spying on boys. Making small things from grass and weed and wildflower. One day (it was a Tuesday) al

Blossoms and Buds

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not enough of us / destroy / what we create

Things I Will Miss Once the Apocalypse Is Done

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The scent of fresh cut grass./ The idiot sense of accomplishment/ mowing the lawn can bring.

Quitting Smoking

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After the affair was over, she told her husband she’d been smoking. Obviously he didn’t know, but he knew. One can never hide the fact that one has been smoking. He said he could smell it on her.

Vague Obscenities

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The next day on YouTube, 3,558,019 users watched the clip of Kate dangling next to Jay Leno's chin.

Brother

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My brother was the catcher, and we were having sex. I was waiting to be scared. In our act, he would swing upside down from the bar, hanging by his knees, his arms extended, and I would fly into his chalky grip.

It Stops

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We made our escape on grimy streets under skies filled with crows, flapping like litter in the wind.

A Boy

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You said it was easier when you were ten and could play Risk with a girl and it was a game, not foreplay.

KADDISH

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My mother was a child of the death camps, passed her adolescence there. Survived.

Ordering a muse over the phone

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"Well, I'd like to inquire about getting a muse. It says in your ad that you provide muses for people who are creatively challenged by their art form."

Before

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The last time they made love she could feel the hint of pain and loss which would become her.

We Used To Be Sharks

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I was sitting on the therapist’s couch in someone else’s boxer shorts.

Big

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I found the knife in a fishing box in the closet. The box was made out of varnished wood. My father’s father had made it.

Soliloquoy on Ma

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“Your sister is a slut,” said Ma to me over supper.

Red Can't Even Grab a Starbucks

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I see his look, his impatient look.

Danger Above, Danger Below

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And you know that notion just goes to show...

The Dead in Paris, Complete

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Did we get Jihadi John?/ And the highway to Mosul?// What’s the score?

Losing (Valentine's Day Massacre Poem)

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Paid and laid, they leave.

Butcher Knife

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When I was young I used to carry a butcher knife to bed. My grandmother placed it in my small hands before tucking me in.

Requiem for a Glass Heart

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The stone thrower lives in a glass house with his glass family. His neighbors often stop in front of his home and stare at the flesh and blood man as he goes about the business of living with his glass wife and glass child, their glass furniture and glass lives.Every…

The Unknown Substance

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Mama's good at finding things, but hardly ever what she's looking for.

Cutting Rhubarb in the Rain

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Tendering these stalks, making the pie, heralds me a holder of apron strings...

Coffee Shop

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He inhaled all these sensory impulses like they were so much illuminated, fluorescent pollen which jostled for space with the strong aroma of coffee in his nostrils.

Gershwin’s Second Prelude

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While Kate practiced the piano in the tiny third-floor apartment, Wiley cooked dinner, jogging in place in front of the stove.

Writer Conversation with Husband

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"What, you only like my funny stories?"

Stalling

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My son, six, is practicing dying.

Unpublished

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tiny thoughts

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what if I die?

Better Boys, Early Girls

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... tomatoes swelling and turning pink...

In the Hamptons

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Class differences in New York (and if you believe F. Scott Fitzgerald, in America, generally) are best viewed from the beach.