Most read stories

Auden at Swarthmore

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So I went to see the wrinkled and rumpled poet, who insisted on reading from memory, stumbling through his sheaf of poems.

The balloon of you

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and the mass exceeds the buoyancy/ and gravity pulls you back,

Halfhearted Objections

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The old man behind the counter recognizes fear and anxiety in the boy's face, and sees the brown paper bag clenched in his other white-knuckled hand.

A Clean Tent

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“No,” he says. A simple lie. “I -” He pushes the sleeping bag off of his legs. Their getaway reset was a mistake.

Coffee Shop

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the/ orange/ tastes/ welcome

Me, Butterfly Hu, and the Damnable Season

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When the city froze and the darkness began to arrive ahead of rush hour, my pills worked; Butterfly Hu’s did not. In a double blind trial, you can’t know who gets the miracle, and who gets the sugar.

2006, What I Wanted

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freedom from my mind

Mescaline Blues

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This is about a mescaline trip that went wrong. It happened back in the '60s and I know, the '60s have been done quite to death and nobody ever gets the trip right but--you'll like this one. Joey and…

Permission to Go

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Now that I no longer sleep to see you, propelled by this motion that is not magic

Librarians! What Are We Hiding?

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Librarians are hiding something. What is it?

In the Path of Mary

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She walks ahead, dropping matches as she goes. Grassland is consumed by flames and when I arrive all is wasted.

Good intentions, and all that.

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There was something in the pressure and the urgency that made her smile, and then laugh. It was like carrying heavy furniture while someone made a joke--the effectiveness of the joke seemed directly proportional to the weight of the furniture. What was it

On A Highway Somewhere

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When I think about love, I actually think about life. And when I think about that, I wonder if we’re really who we used to be.

Your Horoscope

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Sagittarius (Nov.22 – Dec. 21) Listen to the voices inside your head. They speak to you for a reason. Now is not the time for debate.

Love, a comet, omens and wings

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My love for him like wax wings/ so long they stretched eternal— beating in the sky, grazing peaks,

My Man Wears Cherry Pants

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My man wears chartreuse shoes.! He wears chartreuse shoes like a new king right there on Main St.!

GRANDMA FLYNN

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She shoved a small bottle under her aprons and came towards me, darkening the passageway from “Ancestor” by Thomas Kinsella The night I heard the Banshee she passed away. In my screaming fear dada and mama woke. …

Forever Four-Eyed

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I'm a librarian. A reader. I identify as a four-eyed person. I've always worn glasses. I got my first pair in the second grade. It was a miracle! The blurry world I'd inhabited all my life suddenly came into focus. I could see the blackboard! I could read street signs! I…

All there is

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You need buttered broths and to copy old writings by hand by very poor light.

Future

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Just thinking aloud, really. And by aloud, I mean typing for someone to read haha.

Laundromat

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Who am I?

Dog Days

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I dreamt I was spinning down the coast in a convertible. It was warm, and the top was down.

Matisse, in the Jardin des Tuileries, 1904

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The World's Worst Mime stood there next to the iron carousel, portraying something, and the crowd understood none of it, except that whatever thing he was trying to portray was not being portrayed well at all.

Tales from an Indiscriminate Record Collection

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45s I’ve kept wrapped in newspaper in the attic. These are all mine. Some doubling up in sleeves. Some pushing tears in the seams.

Curb Appeal

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He kept the lawn mowed at the perfect height. He mowed it twice a week to one inch. Some weeks he mowed it a third time for good measure.

Charlotte

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Half way through our cigarettes she told me her name was Charlotte.

Ghost Questions

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What if I never feel like a real artist? What does it even mean to be a "real" artist? What if nobody ever cares about what I make?

Dear Scarlet

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It’s me walking in on you shooting up in the diner’s cesspool of a shitter, and you trying to conceal the evidence while you’re telling me it’s straight up your first time.

Police Mistakenly Release Murderer: An Analysis

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He has no plan, he needs a plan, he has no plan, he needs a plan -- the two thoughts bounce around inside his skull like racquet balls.

Poem for Amy Winehouse

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Last night I spoke to the universeon your behalf. I don't know if anyone understood my plea, but I did it, I knew what I meant to say out loud, heard myself implore the great cosmic stuffing we're all fluffed out of to pleasejust give you a…