Most read stories

mnemonic haiku

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skies electric blue,/limpid dewy air, the world/framed by a small farm.

Park Bench

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Then daylight's lovely lantern/ Dressed in yellow white/ cleanness/ Danced a ballet towards/ Her majesty’s park bench/ She did! She sat on you!

The Lonely Genius

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was washing her hands and lookingin the mirror and hoping tosee someone who could tell herthe way home again. She wasn'tsure why she should want to go there except maybe to findthe missing piece that had alwayseluded her. The lonely genius puton her clothes but the…

Thumbs Up Jesus

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Good buddy Jesus./ Life coach Jesus. Enthusiastic// and optimistic Jesus, no cross/ or crown of thorns in sight.

Razor Wire

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I flip up my hoodie, pull the string tight across my lips until it cuts into them, pull tighter, saw back and forth until blood warms the hairs on my chin.

For Dejan S. & Bob V. & Gordy B.

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Put blisters on your fingers and Put plasters on your head but Put peppers on your privates and You’ll wish that you were dead!

The Day You Told Me You Fucked Her

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I imagined you going at her in ferocious fucking-- / O, O, O, O, O, O, O Immortal Glistening Cock,

A Dispatch from an Enivironmental Lawyer Who is Trying to Grow a Mustache

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Angelina Jolie, seducer of Brad Pitt, tattooed mother of rescued orphans, and the unlikely daughter of Jon Voight who broke Billy Bob Thornton's heart, is only two blocks from me, in a travel trailer on Seventh Street, gently rousing herself from sleep.

Misunderstood

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Leonard didn't know that cute girl well, hardly at all, but he really wanted to. She was his first real crush in Junior High. He got his chance and talked to her some one day while they were walking down the hall between classes. She actually spoke to him first. The bell…

Watering

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“Sometimes when I feel the urge to create, I don’t know whether to grab my paints, my camera, my guitar or my pen.” “You could have sex,” her friend, sitting in the desk next to hers, joked.

Walking To Gibraltar, Chapter 6: In Which Moral Boundaries Are Set

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The first time they were separated, he rediscovered music and writing.

Highway Robbery

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I knew her face but not her hair, at least not the right way up.

My Morning Song is Better than Yours

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And I just want to say that my morning song is better than yours. I want you to hear it buzzing in me like an old radiator. I want you to do what you’ve done before. To press your ear against the skin and listen for the static.

Klondike

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"How could anyone say that I was wrong, that I was crazy?" These thoughts scraped across her mind and tore open the reasons she had knitted herself into over the years.

The Olympian: A Tale of Ancient Hellas ....an excerpt

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“You have run for your life, Astylos, and won. All Hellenes share in your victory.” The crowd bellowed and thundered as an attendant tied purple ribbons around the winner’s forehead, arms and legs. These would mark him as a victor for the remaining days o

Chicagoo (from Swink literary journal)

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When Kim handed me some of her husband’s condoms—“Here, use these”—out of one of their bedroom dresser drawers, could she sense the astonishment I was trying my best not to show?

Flowers for Our Dead Lovers

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We brought flowers for our dead lovers

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.

Riddle 44 from the Exeter Book: The Key

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Curiously made thing

Wild Dreams of Reality, Chapter 15

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Darrell looked at me, then down at himself. He was still in his wet underwear. "What is this?" he said, looking up again. "Where in the hell was I?" He shook his head. "It was weird, Philip. Boy, that was one wild dream." "That was no d

Trombones and Figs

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“What are you doing, Maestro?"

Why They Cried: Deano

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When it came time to sell the agency—when the papers came for him to sign—it was a very bad deal. But he did not cry. This was business. He had gambled and he had lost. He signed the papers without a hint of regret and even pried open a case of champa

Rebekah Just When the Drought Was Ending

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But the best thing about Rebekah was the way she floated always beneath the scent of woodburn and dusty Middle America,

Hurricane Shutters

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The thing that really gets you about the house is the hurricane shutters. They're up already, even though it's the end of May, because Buck's uncle is back in Rhode Island for the summer and he's prepped the house on Key Largo like Armageddon is coming.

Fruits of Passion

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Lifting a pear wedge to my lips, I hesitate and dip it into my bourbon instead. I notice a tiny sphere of liquid, suspended, glistening with the flame of the candle. The sweet, subtle scent tantalizes my senses. Careless, sticky fingers bring movement.…

Nobody Steps Forward

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I can only see their eyes in the dark, reflected in the light from my flashlight. It's so quiet. I only hear the sound of my own breath. I hold the flashlight steady. Maybe they will think I'm not a threat if I'm not moving. It's a small hope. Yet here we are, at a…

Bonne Fire

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And the voodoo pins pinged as, folding and imploding, she was reduced to a petro-chemical puddle.

The Child Who Loved Emily Dickinson

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Until it happens to you, and I hope, and you should pray, that it never does, you cannot appreciate the consolation of believing that your are merely losing your mind.

Working Girl

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Suddenly a hand shot up on the other side of a hedge. “I’ll have one of those!” cried someone who remained invisible.

Walking The World Alone

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Yeah I walk itWithout a companionOr friendI walk the world aloneIt seems right to meI don't like the moviesMost television showsOr most popular musicI walk the world aloneUnable to buildAn emotional attachmentWith anyoneI walk the world aloneWith beer as My…