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Spring Ice

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...I stared at my good dog with the same entreaty I saw in her eyes. Save us. Please.

Ambitious

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Why do men become explorers? he asked. Because they want to cannibalize the unknown; to leave the chemicals, the furniture (and, yes, the shrew) behind; to make their way hi ho into the brush, whose weeds and lianas remain empty of the exhortations of Jesus Christ, whose…

Departure. Arrival. Return.

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Put down your bazooka, Marianne.

The Celebrity

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"He doesn't have a parish," I said. "He works in a hospital in the East Bay. He told me that if I were in that hospital and I woke up and saw him, I was in big trouble."

Digging Up Bones

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So I'm digging, clawing the black earth, disappearing in its ore and shadow.

Mayweather

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where I'm from

Hummingbird hearts in a breadbox

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We married in the ruins of a pachinko hall, the tiny bones in the pocket of your tracksuit luring a pack of wild dogs out from the underpass.

Far Star Girl

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She thought maybe an angel had called out her name. She wasn't sure. She was waiting for her older sister to return with Jujy Fruits and bonbons. The theater, neither light nor dark, was to Cassie's ten-year-old mind, an appropriate-enough setting for a v

Literate Reply

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an oven mitt in Dachau

Conversation on Thanksgiving

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“You always use that as a crutch. You, a sixteen year old girl. The way you were…” She looked at me, shaking her head, looking at my body as if remembering some wrong, some thing that should not have been.

How to Have a Fulfilling Sexual Relationship with Your Own Parents (Part One)

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Hi, I'm Alexander Payne. I hate sex.

Your Old Untrue Love

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This is how we catch up. I write something down, and you read me quietly. In a year's time you will remind me, though I would have forgotten. I check to see if maybe you have put up a new song, every once in a while, but you don't sing as well as you used to.What has…

Only a Memory Away

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When Uncle Dan got sent to the Alzheimer's ward, the ladies licked their lips. Fresh meat.

The Great Bank Run of 1912

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She bought her first gerbil at the age of nine. She wondered if he would die from endless logrolling. When he died from natural causes, she refused to bury him and kept a distance from the first boy who kissed her--Thomas J. Hobbit. The next year a twister swept…

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?

The Gospel According to Teeny

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Then I heard it -- a sound like an oboe being strangled. Teeny was farting onto the cement stoop through her jeans, a tripple flutter blast.

Horny

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"...I wonder if it held magical powers..."

Peach

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"What's that smell?" Osama glares at me from the front seat of the Trans Am. "What smell?" I say. "You smell like a diaper. Are you wearing a diaper?" Osama and Peach both laugh at me. "No... maybe, its my Baby Soft perfume. Is it too strong?"

The Tree is Farther to the Man

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I am constricted by rings. The weight of self crushes me.

The Club

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Even the stinging warmth of the Grey Goose wasn’t fun without Lisa whispering into his ear, telling him stupid little confessions that he would recite to her in singsong the day after. And she would beat her small fists against his chest solemnly with a

Dotting every 'i'

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“Why is it that you give a woman a bit of power and she turns into a man” said a new intern from the copying room “You can hear her balls rubbing on the carpet as she walks”

Terror of Nod

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onward, soldier

Disparity

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sacred ground bleached with the salt of bitter tears

Kitchen Knife (n.)

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Kitchen Knife (n.)1. A standard kitchen tool consisting of a sharp blade attached to a handle intended for cutting, peeling, chopping, slicing, and dicing.2. Used primarily for food preparation (see also BUTCHERING; BACKSTABBING; JACK THE RIPPER; DEATH BY A THOUSAND…

The Unpublished Writer and His Love Interest (The Painter)

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When the writer expressed with subtle alacrity that he adored the painter, she was flattered and didn't raise objection. The writer-in his aloof manner, with experienced caution-pointedly wrote a poem directly for his muse. She never spoke of it, and hi

The Killer

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It don't knock you down to the goddamned ground and push your face into the mat and dare you to get back up. Just so it can knock you down again. They don't have real dreams. Dreams that make them wake up in the middle of the night. Hurting. Wanting.

||||||||||| (Munun)

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Winter melts to ashes and now we walk where hillocks dip like pillows, where a warm pocket of air keeps the scent of spring beauties for itself. Sensitive vetch so easily shocked folds under a feather yet the earth trembles where trout lilies shove. Buds stall on lilacs…

En Pointe

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Her gaunt arms softly rose, sweeping in front of her with movements that were hesitant at first but, as the music that only she could hear took her in its grip, became graceful and assured.

Christmas Morning

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Dad woke us up and said it was time to go.

Shira Dances

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She feels the music deep in her belly,her hips swaying, she looks out through lids no longer guardedand sees you, Her knees bend, her eyes close, She is moving back and forth,a pulse in time,Her arms snake around her head,She does not ask,may I enjoy myself?…