Most discussed stories

Fairy Tale in Dachau

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Certainly leftover cyanide-based Zyclon-B pesticide from the gas chamber was used to purge the lawn of weeds, bugs and vermin. Very efficient. No waste. Perfectly recycled.

Daddy Walked the Pits

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Seems like the tar just got hold of Daddy somehow. What is it about asphalt and a man?

Would You Ask A Librarian For A Lap Dance?

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In the 15 years that I've worked at my local public library, I've learned that we librarians do plenty of things for our patrons that aren't in our job descriptions. After a patron asked me to change her flat tire, and another wanted to check out our pencil sharpener,…

The Sitzer

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Fred, who by that point had already wanted to call Jimmy "Jim," talked a river. Jimmy, who had already called her Freddy, took a mojo bag from his back pants pocket and asked her to write something that he could put inside.

Digging a Hole to the China Sea

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Could sampans fall upward, sailing from the bottom of the Earth? If so, which way would their sails bend—up, or down? And would the strange China Sea follow suit? Would salt water geysers spurt from the hole we dug, flooding the streets of Seattle?

A Course In Positive Thinking

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The debits and credits of life have been recalculated. You are not due tax; you are owed a trapeze. It turns out you have a natural gift for hanging upside down, knees to the clouds.

I Should Not Have Rushed You Through The Rain

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Mist falls from the opaque sky and splatters crystals in your hair...

The Beauties Abandon You

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The skin will stay but you won’t see it,/ camouflaged by creases, tags, and curious/ deposits of renegade fat and pigment.

Soap

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Jackson's a chocolate lab. I brought him home from the no-kill this morning. I've always wanted a dog, but I did it more for Wylie. We stand under the willow with the water running out the hose, Jackson, Wylie and I. Dandelions cover the…

Sparks Beneath the Surface

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If I should wake/ before I die,/ just shoot me through/ the one good eye.

Voices of the Dying

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raging on road and page

Fake Letters

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Dear Husband,

The Death of Narrative

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“Why, you tell a story,” one young fellow said. The expression on his face said “How gauche, how passé!”

21

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Five girls wobble into the train car. Their blistered feet protrude from the bedazzled straps of their sandals. Conductor: “Girls in the back with the open containers, you can't have those on the train.” A heavy-set girl in a belted yellow mini-dress…

Deep Inside The Light There Are No Dreams

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Mack’s mind held a chandelier.

Julie in 2004

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She'd have to be careful, but couldn't you just see it?

Poems Are Scary Things

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They will take you, naked, and put their tongues and fingers into intimate, erogenous openings

A Quite Literary Catfight

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Cavett asked McCarthy what she thought was overrated about Hellman. McCarthy–never known to mince words–replied “Every word she writes is a lie, including ‘and’ and ‘the.'"

Tongue

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I watch my mother No longer beautiful or charming Her left arm shaking Her mind a gone thing no longer doing her wrong Wandering away from me in the mall To kiss the hands of strangers...

Evil Humors

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I blame it all on evil humors. Something's leaking.

Old Vibrations

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There's always a sound, something triggering the fear.

A Necessary Evil

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But it was a necessary evil and one he’d made peace with, easy to do when he arrived home each day to the comforting touch of his wife, his home.

All is Ready

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I have bathed in patchouli oil and my heavy hair is lustrous from brushing. I am wearing my gold ankle bracelets with the ruby charms that my love gave me when we had been married one year. My robe is fuchsia silk and under it I wear black satin…

Doreen - II

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I had the distinct feeling she was telepathic. As that thought crossed my mind, she smiled broadly and returned my quizzical stare. It caught me off guard, wasn't what I expected.

The Man Whose Wife Lived in His Neck

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This is the story of the man whose wife lived in his neck. Every morning, he would turn to her and say, "Hello, Sweetheart. How was your night?" and she would answer, Brilliant! What else?

Summertime

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“Mescaline occurs naturally in our bodies, you know,” I said.

My Multiple Personality Disorders (DID)

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Dinner at La Maison Bouche

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The knife that precedes the bigger knife that precedes the spoon that precedes the flat fork, with stuff like that I'm all butterfingers, & even though he's never been to Italy except once to shoot a gun when the world was a great big jumble, he remembers all…

Etude, Prelude, Nocturne, Polonaise

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proving little more/ than the player’s keyboard dexterity.

More Abandoned Sentences

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By morning it was over. I crawled farther out onto the ledge. The three year old was screaming like Donald Duck. Trains ran into the night. Several pigs entered the open window.