Most read stories

The Urine Pearls

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“No, dad, I've never seen urine colored pearls.”

Beard of Bees

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Beard of Bees My father always used to say to me, he said "Son" (he called me son) "Son. Falling in love is easy. Getting into the Guinness Book of World Records is hard".

Refugees

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Four in the morning. I was awake because I'm always awake. There were little fog-halos around the streetlights.

Without Forgiveness

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Click-clack, click-clack. The cadence of the tracks below push George back and forth between what happened and what is to come.

For The Sea of Pill

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In his dreams, he swam in piles of pills. Sometimes the piles were infinite, other times the were contained, tonight the pills were intense shiny reds, chalky yellows, deep blues and matte purples and swirled around in a children's inflatable castle. Derek swam happily,…

some precursors of Mantegna

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Light. And shade. Line and shape. Colour, form and perspective. Wall, wood, ceiling or canvas. Pigment in eggyolk or linseed oil. Stroked by brush or spread by knife. On small panels or plastered on vast spaces. All these problems to be worked over and solved. Then …

The Crossing

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

Rock On

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...fancy the idea of tapas, Spain an' all.

Cherry Stem

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He moved his rotten breath closer to my mouth, like he wanted to twirl his tongue around just to see how it felt.

The Violinist

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Max leads the parade up the hill. He is sawing on his violin, wearing nothing but a raincoat.

The Poet Reads

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

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.

Better Alive Than Dead

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How many of them, I'm wondering, are just going through the motions until the power goes out and never comes back on again? They've got to know the Americans will never let the city fall to the færies.

Big C and Lil Puppet

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At that time I was meeting Jacob at 3:30 each afternoon in Joan of Arc Park so we could walk dogs together. This was our job.

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…

Christmas Morning

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

Quitting

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The dancer was a little chubby, but I didn't mind. It gave her more to shake.

Lesson 38

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You have a house (plural, as in Spain)

Man In Hiding

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I answered with my usual economy of words. If someone wants more, they must ask, and he did.

Brink of Extinction_Chapter Three

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Chapter Three

Fuck Ups

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we try, we keep trying

Juggernauts

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They are always there. Stoic and steady.

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 15

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Steve Bancroft’s future wife showed up at his door that same night, slamming her hand loudly against the door and shouting for him. “Steve, Steve, wake up. Damn it, come on. You forgot to pick me up at the airport. Who are you in there with? I said wa

Foundling

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They discovered the baby in the grass, under the snapping cotton sheets.

Animals, Animals, Animals

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  Crea grew up above a pet store and now she dreams of cats. There are too many of them to name, a slinking mess of calico, tabby, tortoise-shell, black and white. There are more each night. They whisper to her, words made of hissing mewls. During the…

Wedding Bells & Space Junk [July challenge]

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Right away, like toadstools, there were crackpot theories. The first: that kids out on the lake dock, against fire department warnings...

Salt Thought

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The custard of eternity is scooped into the quantum cone of knowledge and drips out the bottom one lifetime at a time.

Dirty Aubade

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We could kiss under the elder tree, even though it was forbidden, even though we were drowned by the noise of the river and nothing we said was right

Realistic Three Hole Marilyn Monroe

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I think I’m the best Marilyn Monroe there ever was.

the hungarian artist

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What led to the current situation was that about a year ago the conceptual artist had been shocked to read in a small item in a newspaper that a conceptual artist in China had also grown an ear on his forearm and this discovery had led the conceptual artist to make a …