Most read stories

Erased

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You took up residence on the dark side of things, a bolthole in a wind-flayed right angle of a tower block where pigeons and suicides tumbled blackly on the air currents. You set about drifting off from who you were on a tide of cheap whisky and bad poetry, graduating…

The Untold Story

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I kept a journal for so many years I've forgotten everything I wrote.

NAN : A Novel-In-Stories

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My novel-in-stories, NAN, is now available as an ebook for $6.99. Thanks to everyone who read the first 7 published stories here on Fictionaut.

Wednesday late, Friday early

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I wrote this during a poetry workshop at the Atlantic Center for the Arts with Carolyn Forché. January, 2015. So much more has happened since that stunning week.

Having Read the Poems of Matt Dennison

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Having read the poetry of Dennison I hereby give up writing.

Momma’s Don’t let Your Daughters Grow up to be Cowdykes

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She could see very clearly in her mind many size five girls with radically short hair and Cowdyke outfits from places like L. L. Bean.

Wasps' Nest

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Here’s how you do it. First you get a ladder, a long one.

Not Yeatsian

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Didn't he have like a frog No lips so speak of, and the weathered lizard Look of the frequently face-lifted?

Building

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he told me to be careful,my feet may bleedI watched him walk up and down the path,occasionally bendingwhy?carpenter nails, pieces of broken shinglesall along the pathnow I know why

Lost in Suomi

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Wind pummeled me awake, smelling of pine and some quality of newness I could not identify...

Revelations

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No snippets for you.

Spilled Milk

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(I'd appreciate some feedback on this very weird story.) A Frosted Mini Wheat walks in to a bar...

The Bird

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We lived on the edge of a tiny Iowa town, and picked corn fields were steps away.

Heat

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It was so hot we walked out on our husbands. There were reasons, we supposed. They left the refrigerator doors open all day, grabbing beers when they passed by, tossing the sticky caps upon counters. They drove their Metropolitans to buy food, leaving th

MR. WOODCHUCK

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fat furry marmots who play hide and seek

Last Night, I Had a Beer with God

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"So" he started, which troubled me enough to turn back around and make such focused eye contact that I did not even notice his glass was again full, "you wanted to talk?"

At the Jennifer Aniston Intensive Haircare Clinic

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Hunger only makes people hungry, but bad hair can ruin your whole day.

Wall-to-Wall Bullshit (or, 'The Unauthorized Autobiography of Smiley McGrouchpants Jr. Esq. III')

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"I can't believe my 'best friend' and my 'girlfriend' would actually start dating if I authorized and coordinated repeated threesomes for us!" Robert Eww was saying, holding aloft a dagger and book, with an olive wreath around his head.

Getting It Wrong

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As Gino exited the supermarket, plastics bags in tow, he began doing curls with his right arm. He’d been doing this for years, reasoning that he might as well get some exercise during the walk home.

Before My Change Jar Went Missing

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These are the small miracles we witness from my barrio stoop.

My Favorite Breakfast

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When Mavis is satisfied that her new man and I have met her criteria, and at long last she goes, no one will stand between me and the relentless boredom of my own company.

RT @dadaism #amwriting

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How much do book editors earn? Peacock Love. (aww…)

the wicked daughter

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The air has its dark confessional, and I have mine. Hot is called raw by some, hate mixed with malice for others. I am only separated by this dark window of time from you, but you never feared the lovely or the lonely.

Pretty

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Is it victory or madness

Eve

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When God blessed creation, a ewe gave birth to Adam. When he cursed Satan, Eve hatched from a crocodile's egg.——In naming the animals, Adam marked them for death. His own name was a slow fire. Eve's was an inferno.——In the shelter of the Tree of…

Liquor and Older Women

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"What is a vageena?" I wanted to know.

Babushka – Opening Night Review

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...will it be as overwhelmingly dull and tedious as de Sade?

Hyena Spit The Poem

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is

Deerhead Puppets in the Forest

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A spark is a gouged word: stewed to annihilate, scrambled, botched in a pot to dry. Lead us to the quiver, let us tremble. Noon, we paw nails under rugs, run fingertips over books, rip cupboards from hinges and spiral open the machine, for the creature is near the roof or…

Poems I posted on social media, late night, when I was drunk.

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my God, I have no time, no time