Most read stories

Occasional sunshine

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‘Didn't you used to have a daughter?' The tense and phraseology jarred, but he was inarticulate not ignorant, awkward rather than unaware of how it sounded and she smiled at him.

The Piano Player’s Dead Rejoice

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Requires one of those leaps.

Lunch Bird

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The bird studies me, we lock stares, with no care for who blinks first, birds don’t do macho stand-off.

Arcana Magi - c.21: The World Stage

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The old mage said nothing. She did not even return the complement. All she had was disgust in her eyes as she looked at the grown men and women. To her they had no hearts.

The Department of Lost Dreams

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You would think that a department responsible for recovering readers from falling into the illusory realities of their books would merit an office in a less obvious state of disrepair.

Healing Romance of the Rose

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The dying rose spoke to the wood That kept in it's heart a love of good And all that was in bloom It could not let that happy rose Fret about in terrible death throes Would not be its tomb.

Wounds & The People Who Poke Them

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My friend once told me about this island of trash in the Pacific. He said that if you threw a piece of trash in any body of water it would find its way there somehow.

Whispers (set of 3 themed poems)

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Digging Up Bones

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

Twin

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Brandon had never liked standing in line; it was a childish tendency he had never grown out of. What likely annoyed him the most was likely the stillness, the lack of motion despite everyone else's insistence that they were getting somewhere. And it was slow, too,…

Motel

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Brody was standing against the wall with one hand in his hip pocket, as if he was holding a gun. The motel was set in the undergrowth of several weedy small towns, but a flashing neon sign made it impossible to miss from the road. We used it as a safe hou

Tango

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By the end of the evening, a dark circle of sweat stained the overstretched satin over her dome of a belly. José told her to take it easy. “When people come to a tango bar, they want to think about sex, not babies.”

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 Investigator

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The investigator starts by accumulating facts, as many facts as he can. He sifts through them with meticulous precision, leaving no leaf unturned, no page unread.

The Work of Constant Rising

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When did the air become warning?That clairvoyant delft and Delphic sky.What strange and ardent premonitionheld sway? Where were we goingbefore this hard work of constant falling?We were catching cabs and making breakfast,ironing, cursing late trains; hoping the deal…

Pick Me

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Strike me down hard, bolt of pure blue, laser focus square, blast of hydrogen nuclear, knock me on the keister, blind me down, oh Lordy Lord Lord.

forever

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over tea & saltineshe read melike an obituary

On Being Bald....

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Hair today...gone tomorrow The sun beats down on my balding crown.

Frozen Bird Pie

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I like how you completely disappeared inside a undetermined and yet planned point of pretty view, like a rabbit with a chained pocket watch, like a stunned, frozen bird with a still burning bullet in its tinyfeathered brain. You could say that one…

bathing suit

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The bathing suits are like Christmas dresses.

Diary of a Marriage (2)

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I don’t know what to make of this new territory we have stumbled into neither by accident, it seems, or design. Is there a map to be found?

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.

Funeral

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After the funeral there was a luncheon in the church basement.

Faith

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... black holes suck in matter and supernovas explode.

Blue Line Southbound

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Brazilian girls yammer with their book bags up against my leg.

Hands

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I love to watch Kim work. She styles and cuts hair. When she is working on a customer, she is all business. The look on her face is priceless.

Dancing Beneath a Gazebo

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We learned to dance beneath a gazebo / in Spring Lake Park / We were fourteen

Momma and Me

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On Saturdays, we pull out big white poster boards, magic markers, and draw babies.

The List

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There were one hundred titles on the list. One hundred books that could neither be assigned nor put on a recommended reading list.

Linear Critic

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8) An exercise online calls for the first sentence on page 45 of the book nearest you as a suggested description of your love life. The book 9) nearest me still is _The Quarterly_, 1, spring 1987, that I have on my desk in preparing to write an essay.