Most discussed stories

I'm a Man of Few Words

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Of only there were more like you, I wouldn't be changing careers. And my drawings would still be in magazines, instead of on strange people's rears.

Oh, Clyde. I must be your Bonnie.

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This is the best kind of crime scene. Spattered like gore from gunshots, I'm left covered in trace evidence.

Witness

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The violin hung on the wall after that, a witness.

Footnote

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Weddings, engagements etc.

Jukebox

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Once a psychologist told me a story

The Judge's Wife

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Her pheromones were working overtime.

Gulf War

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Someone's ass should be kicked.

Cranshaw Engages in Debate

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They were discussing reincarnation, what animals they would come back as. "I'd be a vole," Cranshaw said. Is a vole even an animal? Connie asked.

To an Overly Helpful Husband of Advanced Age

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in which a man who is bored with years of retirement poses a threat to himself and others

On the Deeper Slants of the Universe

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Everything makes sense.

Gorgeous World

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I’ve forgiven my mother; she didn’t know what she was doing. She heard voices, had visions. She imagined herself to be a prophet named Helen when her real name was Marge. When she learned she was pregnant with me she scored some Thalidomide from my gr

What I find

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is every word is a small step takenaway from you that arcs back to me likea mamba's mouth. I'm not going aroundin place so much as running in circles. You can see my devilry here. You arethe truth here and that makes me the lie. You'renew morning. I'm much, much more…

Poem for the Poet

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for Bill YarrowPoetry is a way of breathingagainst the enemy's chest withoutlosing consciousness again. Itis a ghost dance. Poetry is tobe determined by the plight of bees.Poetry is a waterfall ona mailing list. I've never tasteda finer whiskey than poetry.Poetry is half…

When Your Poem Becomes Self Aware

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Where will you hide? Because you know it Will seek you out for answers you might Only be asking for yourself. It Will send many students to stand outside Your apartment and chant your name. It will beg you to perform its birth Again to the…

Tuesday, Before Noon

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It came up heads so he is going first. He puts on a condom and gets in

Faith, Hope, and Charity

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She wears three or four tattered sweaters on cool days. She pushes a basket borrowed from a grocery store. There is a plastic lawn bag in the basket with God knows what inside.

Broken Waters

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The thing is

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It was not that he was boring – it’s just that he needed a lot of encouragement. When he came, he whispered to himself, ‘ohgodohgodohgod’ - like it was something to be ashamed of, to be sorry for. I wanted to hold him close against me but I also n

The Best Banana Bread

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Stones

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At the graveyard, the leaves had been raked into loose array....

Flurry

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If I had slept a little longer, I/ would not have seen this rarity at all.

far beyond

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far beyond the far beyond sparkles the stars like sparkles

Confetti Bomb

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For one glittering moment

Emily's Letter to her Husband's Lover

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I almost kept him on the shelf with all the trophies.

Something Other Than the Truth

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“I’m going home,” I answered, but the word home seemed inappropriate. I hadn’t told the truth and felt something, not guilt as guilt was far too strong, but still I felt something that moved me enough to amend my answer: “I’m going to the place where I gr

Post-Op

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She tells Tuesday's lover that there's nothing wrong with cheap thrills without anesthesia,

Justify

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When we would leave her place I never had a firm idea where I was taking her except I knew - and she knew - that eventually we'd end up back at my place. We did this a lot when her husband, Mack, was out of town. Every couple of weeks his job took him to…

With Eyes Closed

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I believe I will become a bear, snuggle up in a deep cave, coil myself inside my fur, close my eyes on hurting images, turn a deaf ear to the uproar of the world. Bolt my door to the deceiving voices outside. Sleep. Forget. Wait, as we wait for spring, for the violet and…

Flexeril and Hydrocodone and Want

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Flexeril and Hydrocodon... For my back

Eve's Curse in Silence and Sorrow

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To touch our skin was filthy, to spread our legs a mortal sin. You closed the keyholes to keep us apart, so we used them to keep you out and keep our secrets to ourselves.