Most discussed stories

Twilight Is Merely A Shade of Color

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Its edges fluttering in the dull breeze, today's town newspaper lay at my old feet, open to the obituary page.

GUNS

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I'm gonna buy a gun.

Song: Three Good Hubcaps, music by Tom Casesa

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NO3RAM7-ciU

October

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It's Halloween again, the season when my mother died.

South 55

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This is a wife pregnant with spiders

Across US Sullen Teens Dump Family for Olive Garden

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"That zit on your forehead just won't go away, will it, sweetie?" she adds as she brushes her daughter's bangs downward.

Other Brothers of American Crime, Chapter Fourteen

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An extended account of his criminal exploits for a criminal syndicate of Midwestern newspapers and radio stations hastened a change of career plans.

The Amazing Adventures of Macro-Microbe

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Macro-Microbe parked his car and proceeded on foot, which was a misnomer because he had no feet. Typical for Manhattan, no one gave him a second glance except for a homeless woman who tried to sell him hand-sanitizer. Macro-Microbe locomoted himself insid

When I Last Saw Gina

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Regina Dawn "Gina" Edwards, 49, passed away June 2, 2006. R.I.P. "Ridge Woman"

how gravity keeps time

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into the Zone of Avoidance gazes sink/ ―and why not? a black hole at the heart of it,/gravity attracts even our vision when/ we lift our gazes . . .

Lunar Hypnotism

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You sleep. The time is soft and slow. Your dreams are covered with the snow.

Rob's Send-off

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They could cram Rob inside the trunk and then drop him somewhere in the dingles.

SHADOW

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I am a shadow. Cooler than liquid. I don't need a container to take shape.

Bad Writing

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When you're scared to write badly, that's when you write. You are probably trying to tell the truth.

No More Ideas

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And then, one fateful day, the world ran out of ideas. The last one was gone, floating away like a balloon full of the helium we had already squandered.

From Beyond

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Someday they'll find me face-down in a puddle of ink.

A Ruckus Needs To Be Raised, or Caused, or Raised

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Either a ruckus needs to be raised Or a ruckus needs to be caused I began chewing the locks of love Off the fences and the gates I was so outraged At the horrible academic trash If they had found me doing this They would have hauled me a

Map of the World to Come

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The middle finger talks of many things How I killed the moon But still drank the moonshine And how getting over her took Some bleeding from the soul Maybe it’s the Inner Face of Outer Space That worries me the most But what about the Fro

pome sequence from an early spring

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Say say say say say say says our I-I-I-me tunes:

Walking To Gibraltar, Chapter 11: In Which An Accusation Is Debated

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He gave her cancer. He gave her cancer. Not what she said. She said her relationship gave her cancer. Her relationship with him. Gave her cancer.

Though the Heart be Still as Loving

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With my heart preserved, I shoved a handful of baubles back in its place: some pages torn from my favorite books, a bass guitar string, a butane lighter, a shot of vodka. I stitched myself back up and left the roof in favor of the attic, where I hung my s

Jen the First

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"kissing her with every muscle in my neck."

WE SHOULDN'T HAVE BOUGHT THE FIREWORKS

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My chin is half-eaten. My chest is gone. There is a rhythm to how each flame licks me. Like how you used to in the mornings before work. Before the coffee. Before the toaster. Before a rose clenched between your teeth and dancing.

The Thousandth Day

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She pictured the President leaving the hospital a few days later, hobbling on a cane. Jackie beside him, Caroline and John-John dashing from a waiting limousine. He couldn’t die. She’d looked into his eyes. John F. Kennedy spoke to her.

Hanging

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Hanging was back and thriving - twice a week at half seven in the evening.

The Perils of Open Hand

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There are worse things than getting your ass kicked by a 12 year old Puerto Rican kid. This was exactly my thinking as he stood over me, his pre-pubescent screams sounding like a baby Bruce Lee, preparing to finish me off.

Carlos The Impossible (Part 1)

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And so the deal was struck. It was arranged that the empresario for the Plaza Mexico would buy the giant bull from Button for Hernando to fight. Come the Fiesta de la Fuerza Irresistible, the Great One would meet the bull that was born of a thunderclap at

LAST CALL: A Memoir

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We see o­nly the results which a man's choices make out of his raw material . . . when his body dies all that will fall off him, and the real central man, the thing that chose, that made the best or the worst out of this material, will stand naked. All sorts of things…

Christmas Presents

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There’s something Dad’s been telling us that I don’t think is true

Heavyweight

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That afternoon, after I'd swallowed that weight. Felt like a sinker, one of those weights that fishermen attach to their line to make sure the line goes down far enough. Go down far enough there, and I'll find it. That's what I was on about, that I had…