Most read stories

The Crossing

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There was nothing to do but dream ourselves forward. Nothing to do but not die.

Friendsgiving

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Everything would've been copasetic except about the time we got down there they put the turkey in the fryer..

Motive

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about killing

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."

Lord Savior Google

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Our Lord Savior Google/ answers prayers without prejudice/ and leaves the self-hatred up to you

The Old Man and the Shark

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The shark’s voice was dark, warm and scratchy, like dying embers.

Brian, Lisa And The Robinsons

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Sometimes you're searching for a family and you don't even know it. Sometimes a family finds you.

The Waitress Had Freckles

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He took a long, noisy sip from the glass of wine as he peered across the rim to see her walk by."Now SHE would never get our order wrong" he said to his two friends seated at the table with him.The two men looked at each other and laughed. It was obvious Johnny was…

There's a Panther in my Poodle

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There are glasses in the sinkfrom the water that I drink.And the books in my li-braryare not dumb and ordinary.There's a doggie at my door;did I go to the pet store?There's a puppy on my couch-ywho was happy, now she's grouchy.Was a writer, now an authoror an otter; no, an…

Let’s Us Not Exaggerate

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Call him a hobo or homeless or bum or junkie.

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.

Carmencita and the Virgin

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It's blues, bars and boots since you went away. You were wiferustled like sheep, like cattle.

Picturing Utrillo

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Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder.

Lesson 38

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You have a house (plural, as in Spain)

Preserved In Amber

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So no one ever caught sight of Eleanor picking her nose; besides, that wasn't what she was doing.

newsmakers

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was yesterday’s dawn breaking in the high sky/ meant for us?

Crows and the Gunshot

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We'll Thelma-and-Louise it, I urged, Bonnie-and-Clyde it, she bettered, Sundance-and-Butch it, I proffered but she was already leaning in for a kiss.

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?"

Atticus

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His name was Atticus. Yes, exactly like that other Atticus you’re thinking of. Though it was more to do with his mother’s unnatural obsession with Gregory Peck and less to do with a love of classic novels (because Lord knows she scarcely read a thing

Wife

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What used to be a scene has broken into fragments and blips of her on a screen I can’t control or manipulate.

Note from the wilderness

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It's a business, after all, all are quick to remind us. True dat, and the sun always rises in the east and sets in the west, and death and taxes...yup yup, we know. We get it.

Your Boredoms

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Your boredoms are not my fascinations. Your boredoms Belong to the ice caves with the Mammoths, Although haven't they been tortured enough by the Changing winds? Your boredoms are far from twinkling Objects in the beaks of ancient crows,…

You, Cliché

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You might as well be the man on the moon. Once touching your face was quotidian. When I tallied each day's pleasures, you, in this room or that, counted too much for me, I think. I stopped record keeping. I'm …

Plantar Fasciitis

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"Don't fuss, hon. I just lick it off like tequila."

This Isn't a Title, But I'm Fingering Your Mother, While You're Sitting at the Computer, Reading This.

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[ETIQUETTE ... DECORUM ... BOUNDARIES ... BAH!]

SEVEN DEGREES LESS THAN ZERO

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One night the woman went down in the basement, grabbed an electric drill, and let the voices out in eight places.

The Poet Reads

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If ever I read a poem aloud It will not be from a podium’s shelter

Washed Up

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At noon on a weekday in the off season, when the trickle of tourists who wandered into the Mermaid Curio Shoppe had died out completely, she walked in with wet hair, leaving tiny puddles on the floorboards.

Gargoyle

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they were open weekends if we needed to bring him in for euthanasia.

Fable

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The Muse stands at the summit of a paragraph playing with a yo-yo.