Most discussed stories

Dog Days

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The air is dry and smoky from a fire some miles away. The air is cool. A pair of vultures is soaring in a circle high above the rising land.

Middle Age

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There are no city-chewed streets,/ only white and lilac blooming dogwood trees.

"victim"

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Irish Salad

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Overnight, I felt drunk, as if headed for hangover, but I hadn't drunk enough to cause it. What caused it? Superstitions dialed in sleep.

Medusa Song

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She scrambles the eggs while the baby howls at her knees. To drown out the racket, she hums as she jabs her fork into the yolks. She enjoys the way they spill their yellow color and swirl into the whites. She matches her tune to the schook, schook, schook of the…

The Evening News

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When I got home from work I parked my briefcase in the hall, acknowledged our dog and immediately went into the kitchen where wife, Sherry, was cooking supper. Without turning around at the sink, she said her usual, How was your day? I said, Fine, and yours? She turned…

He Spreadeth Sharp Pointed Things upon the Mire

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My uncle looks into the bleached eye of his cat and asks "What happened to my ear?" The meerkat’s eye replies: "You had cancer. Remember? They had to cut off your ear to save you."

Guess Who Was At The Party?

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She didn’t look a thing like his girlfriend. This alone should have been a sign that she was just a fling, a diversion from what he had known for the past five years. She began to think of his girlfriend as guess who. Guess who was at the opening, peopl

Fish Boil

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Put sunscreen on your / bones.

When Alone

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She'd sit out on the back deck and dig into the skin around her toenails with a paring knife until it bled. He'd listen to a single aria of Opera's Greatest Hits, number 10, until the cusp of some feeling, either despair or rage, would build and fade. Then he'd start…

The Forest is Falling

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another paper saving 55er

castaway

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the epiphany at the mast at midnight is not the same at dawn

Extinctions

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Dinosaurs, a little boy, a hapless mother and mortality.

Nest

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He spends his Sunday morning spraying WD-40 through the straw-like stream attachment at the expansive paper nest of beige and ivory striped wasps.

1945, What I wanted

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In my innocence and young mind, I thought that kiss would mean that someday we would get married

David

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I keep encouraging him to write stories not poems, but I think he enjoys writing things that don’t fit together. Things that stumble.

Minnesota Menage

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I peel off my shorts and tee-shirt, step out of my shoes, and crawl into bed. She wakes up then. "Oh, my goodness," she says.

All Will Be Well

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Jesus will walk on the water. Judas will walk on a technicality.

Un Americano

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His eyes are wide then narrow and brown. Hers are gray then they look away, toward the back door where a delivery driver has walked in, carrying a tray. Nothing is going to happen today.

Fatuous Dialogue #1

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—Was it true, what you wrote in that poem? —Pretty true. —What do you mean “pretty true”? Was it true or wasn’t it? —It was as close as you get to truth in poems.

Hands Like White Porcelain

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Jesus is for sale. But he’s heavy.

inevitable

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Within You and Without You

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The cloudless sky/ amplifies the incompletion,/ clarifies the imperfections/ of the night’s normalcy-

2006, What I Wanted

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freedom from my mind

Six Points of Light/ Dark Star

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Johan was telling stories about the occupation. The Germans were stupid, he said.

Floating Away

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Soon, she will turn to liquid

Losses

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Each day, I lose more words-/ nouns and verbs- but especially// proper names. People and places

almost a still life

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(a sidewalk poem)

love letter

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At night, I fold your name in origami doves and blow, hard, and you are disassembled come morning.

Command Voice

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Go to your room. Children are meant to be seen not heard.