Most read stories

The Abandoned Shoe Project

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It’s the unfinished sentences Of the children on our refrigerators That worry me the most It’s the Fake News It’s all the people Living in their shopping carts Without shoes It’s the abandoned shoe On the street And the Abandoned S

Cow Juice

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Theresa stopped speaking to me because I ate cows. This made things simple. There was no conversation.

A River So Long

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At 5:12, the river turned silver, as if it were frozen. She traced the river's curves on the window with her finger, wishing it were her.

Desilu, Three Cameras

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Ricky imagines bending her over his conga, yanking that bushy dark ponytail like reins and ripping into her. He sits, watches, legs crossed, smoking a cigarette. He needs a dancer for the Jezebel number now that Connie is showing. This girl would make a f

The Wolf Who Cried Boy

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The story begins ... There were no pigs' huts of straw or stick or stone.

A Death by the Sea: excerpt

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I began to imagine the shadows, so rectilinear, were arcing and flowing. I saw shoulders moving, the sinewy upper shoulders of wolves running in a pack. . .

Wilmington

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The neighbor kids start, we join in–

Everything is Fine

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        The first one was dark and angular, coiled-looking inside an expensive suit.  Over her food at a small table in the hotel bar, Francesca had been unable to look at anything else but him.  Out of the suit, unsprung on a king-sized hotel bed, his skin…

Lake Chelan

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Amish-like, between the sheets.

The Freelance Assignment

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You wanted to be a writer. Now you’re a writer.

YOU ARE A FRIEND, SEWING TRAIN

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over taking the sky before near blindness, a clipping occurs

7 or 8 Things I Know About Him - A Stolen Biography

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Wonderful When his mother was a little girl, her father would braid her hair until it was exactly right. When she asked him how it looked, he always said,…

Big Slide

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The screams and howls of other people's children set him on edge. But he struggled to stay cheerful. They had season passes, so the visits there cost nothing and it had consequently become a weekly tradition to go. The children had not, as far as he could

November Is The Month Of Dying

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Two weeks after All Souls’ Day, he trudges through the overgrown pasture behind the farmhouse, his head bent, intent on his footing, a shovel his walking stick.

Minnesota Menage

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I talk to her, whispering endearments and flattery. I tell her how incredible it feels to be between her legs.

Two Summer Poems When I Wanted Three

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That summer...

We Get All Kinds Here

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A toothy grin greets me at my Public Storage counter. He visits every week. Peering through the wire first, he opens his cage door, gaze lingering. Finally he departs. Nothing ever placed or removed. Emptiness, that looming…

Minnows

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I combed the ocean for my minnows while Hattie's giraffes multiplied like spider plants, all yellow and brown on the dry yellow savanna, propelled by their gauche necks, awkward in their bodies, bodies rooted to the feet of the humming planet.

SOMETIMES

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Sue Ellen walked on. “You were thinking about me -- I saw you.”

Sisters

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The gun is heavy. The tiny women hold it in both hands.

Let x

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Let x equal the moment just after he tells her he's starting a club for people who know something about computers.It is summer, 1984, and this is their grade school playground. She is idling on a swing over a patch of scuffed earth. He stands just off to the side, one…

Extracts

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I nicked this from a 12-year-old famine victim living under a bridge in Disneyland.

What the Doormat Said

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It's not my fault I was made to be stepped on, so stop saying what I am with such contempt. Yes, I'm a doormat. No, I'm not weak. I have taken a hundred kinds of treads, twice as many pounds at once, and once or twice there have been cleats. Think about what those would do…

Animals in the Sky

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When the great comet passed over, everyone was at my door with pitch forks and rifles with extra long bayonets. Don’t kill it yet; I want to study its habits.

A Man

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A man’s been in jail for six weeks awaiting trial. Lillian doesn’t say his name. A man kidnapped her from the grocery store parking lot. He raped her at his house, and again in the desert, chopped her hand off with an axe and left her for dead in the

Executive sweet

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So

The Explosions Sound Like Gunshots

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The explosions sound like gunshots. Antonio Gattorno, absorbed in his work, flinches. He curses as he smears the brush across the canvas. He’s been painting since mid-morning. It‘s a hot summer day. Tomorrow is the fourth of July.

Grace Note

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At James’ funeral, Edward recalled the Brooklyn night in James’ Chevy.

Baby Hater

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You leave your husband and go to the nursery at 2 a.m., painted so cute, go to them, and that’s the only place you want to be, and there’s no chance to leave, or trust they will be okay if you turn your back on them. They won’t. SIDS. Meningitis. A

Windowers

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naturally, the windowless ones are the worst.