Most read stories

Cory's Carousel

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There was an ownership about the makeshift carnival. There was a therapy there.

A Sometimes Niggling Notion

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A po'm

The One Day Internship

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Poppy de Witte was content to spend her summers in Cape Cod, where her family owned a small beach house considerably less stifling than their spacious apartment on Park Avenue.

Pins

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The wind is wet today I can't tell you where sky meets sea only that it matters I can't explain why. I've triedCan't see the horizonbut I know that we have drawn itfingers tracing far pastthe edge of blind infinitywhere we sang stars to sleepand pinned our…

Counter intuit

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I I I I

Please Blow Me.

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[TURN-ONS: willingness. TURN-OFFS: rejection.]

It's a Beautiful Banana Moon

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and I can't help it if it is. I know it won't stay that way for long, but for now that's all I've got to work with, shining in my window, made of all eight fingers and a couple of thumbs. But the latest pushy words still want to give…

Lending Books

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In the late 60’s, I lived on West 71st street in Manhattan and borrowed books from a store.

Balls

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Evening was drawing nigh and Mosby's horse had tired from the daylong ride.

A Life

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Born, he stood up. He wore nothing as often as possible

White Noise

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In the small hours, when the crackling of the embers had stopped and the room had gone cold, the boiler kicked in and the pipes began to clang. He was half-roused out of his sleep, and then slipped under again to dream of Marley's fettered ghost.

Don't Trip On My Exit Switch

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It’s nice, but, it’s weird not being in love, or maybe in love, sometimes in love. (Or, not in love. Frankly, we might be not in love.) Or, both of us might be. Or, only one of us might be. (Good lord, I hope it’s never me.)

Dead Girl Rolling

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They left me on a gurney for hours...

A Cameo (for no-one)

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I bleed my heart into my computer, peruse The fact they have proclaimed my root unfit for use But it is I! This manhood, this tower Extending up toward the heavens like a miraculous flower, Purple headed warrior of generation, See it standing…

Praying in bed

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When I was a kid, I was terrified of dying in a bombing, which is strange, really, because I lived in Long Island, which has relatively few bombings to speak of.

The Town Secrets

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How old is he anyway? 35? Maybe 40? Old—but in a good and sophisticated way. Everyone says he’s good-natured and generous, Mr. John-just-like-a-movie-star-Wagner.

Two Little Fictions

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His work was done. For sixty years, beginning soon after his seventeenth birthday, he had listened to the gods- good, bad, somewhere in between-

Her Hair, a Braid

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She’s there, in a tin, loosely wound beneath sepia tissue paper, a braid to worry in your fingers.

Fall

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Nick frowned, the changing of the leaves reminding him of the graying of his hair.. He'd never appreciated the colors of fall, as they heralded frost, winter, which he hated more and more each passing year.

Cradle

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Fingers fan like birds’ wings cradling the volume, head hanging low and lips moving silently...

-And Lurking Behind Quasar 3C295 . . .

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“Let’s see that great big telescope of yours,” she exhaled hotly, “I want to grind your lenses!” The doctoral candidate dutifully stood between her and his massive telescope so her hands would encounter some instrumentation with no optical components.

Flying to the Moon

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...galaxies burst into an infinite slide-show of the absolute... god?

Now and Then

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We wore cowboy hats and jeans in the pictures. They both came off once his camera disappeared.

A Little Piece of Meat

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I didn’t have toothpicks. You looked at me as if it summed up everything about me.

To My Children, With Apologies

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My apologies also for those crowded roads you and your families have to drive on. My generation would have built more public transportation but, in all honesty, we just didn't give a damn.

Ditto

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He looked straight at her, not to challenge her, but to better gauge what it was she would throw at him. Her eyes always darted to the thing right before her red, swollen fingers snatched at it, like a thing possessed.

Hole

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For a person you don't know, a stranger with a lot of place, you think much of him.

Ojibwe

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"Did I have a choice? Could I just open my eyes, did I have to ‘see’ as he was telling me now I could? I decided to go for it. What did I have to lose? This was all a dream, too much driving to get here, too much reunion, too much food, too much beer. Or

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 7

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Warren Jeffries had called me on the phone the night before and said, “Listen to this,” as he held the receiver out his bedroom window at the noise coming from the riot on campus. They were spraying gas over People’s Park, trying to get them to disp

Love Rusts

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Their love was doomed at the onset, yet they engaged in it anyway, heedless of the numerous error messages and critical runtime failures. Abort, Retry, Fail? They selected Retry over and over.