Most read stories

Breath of Fresh Air

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He lost his patience and began ranting and raving, angry that he had to come home every night and feel like he was being smothered by a pillow. “I can’t make it stop,” she said. “I can’t make myself stop feeling this way.”

thumbing through the Jesus book

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We’re on our way out, my brother and me, to the grave­yard.

Walking To Gibraltar, Chapter 2: In Which Spousal Abuse May Occur

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The separation—the plan—had been a long time coming. After years of fighting and therapy and apologizing and, finally, silence, their marriage was about to die of exhaustion.

Google for giggles

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Why won’t my parakeet eat my diarrhea?

The Serious Writer Tracks His Stats

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The officers carried him away in cuffs as he yelled "I NEED STATS! PLEASE! JUST GIVE ME THE STATS!"

Right of Spring

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dicks, skulls and upside down crosses

it’s a true story

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My only celebrity anecdote involves seeing Barbara Bush in the back of the Presidential limo ...

Morning

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On the television, a round woman sits amongst the mannequins. She wears a headband. She describes some awesome jewelry.

Snow Angels (after Sandy Hook)

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The weatherman can't predict accumulation. He can only tell you it will be cold. Expect ice, wind, snow, expect delays. Your daughters play outside, dancing around the Evergreen, its branches bearing the weight of snow, its branches

The Cicada's Cry

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In the cicada's cry No sign can foretell How soon it must dieBasho "Hear the locusts?" The woman lifts the child's head. "Hear em, baby?" The child looks blankly in the…

Cento In Prose and Poetry

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*A"Cento" which is a "patchwork poem" using the words of other writers. for V.W. …

Space, Blank, Uninterrupted

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Space, blank, uninterrupted, but then a fissure, a crack, a corridor, and down it you're walking.

Potsdamer Strasse #2

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Beautiful kids in sunglasses dashed around as colourful as jars of mixed fruit in the warm air of a midsummer’s night drinking on the riverbank, the bar sheltered under a crusty wooden shack, the sight was stunning in the twilight before the sun rose.

3 Poems

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We have always been a trashy species./ We study ourselves by examining/ garbage-- a pile of mussel shells here,

Pitspits

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a perpetrated fraud

Sea Shell

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Useless.

Cymbals Guy

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cymbals guy — another way of saying hey turdshitface haul your skinnyass to the front of the bus.

Prior...More

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He was drinking heavily again and complaining that there was nothing fresh worth writing about.

Valentine Day

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Valentine Dayso excitingit means he really loves herwhat will he bringshe waitshe comes home with a hang dogexpression on his faceher valentine was leftat the gambling table

Somnambulist

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Although still uncertain of whether she was a she fish or a he fish (she definitely hated being an it fish), the fish liked what she saw of Nags Head. Finally, a world that gave her a choice. And felt no need to verify whether she was a real she fish, or just a he fish…

FLY AWAY

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Why is the sky grey he asked meI don't know, I saysudden flashes of light snowbloat the cloudssea gulls are squawkingexpect them to peck at my headI have nothing to feed them

Haiku For My Old Neighbour

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Old man lives next door

The Blonde Bombshell

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We lived across, the street, across North Govenor, from a pretty art student whose stripper name was Jan the Blonde Bombshell.

The House

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Two stories, limestone, gray shutters,next to the park.“We almost bought that house,” my father always saideach time we drove by.He doesn't go down that street anymore.What could have been taunts him from the sidewalks —two little girls and a bucket of…

Storage Access Framework

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At first we thought metadata rich, non-hierarchical, network based, multi-provider filesystems were our future. An arduous journey but well worth the efforts for the beforehand unimaginable user experiences enabled by new technologies that thereupon displaced the…

Of the smokers I’ve kissed

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The man next to me on the Shinkansen from Tokyo to Kyoto makes me think of the smokers I’ve kissed.

Mine

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My father was dating already. Her name was Shelly. She had a man-like body, buck teeth and red hair, a big forehead. I don't know what bog she climbed out of. She wanted to fill in for my mother, but I locked her out of my room. I just wanted to be sad and hold…

Good Fences

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I built the fence myself, strong and high and aesthetically pleasing. It was high enough to provide privacy on both sides, but from my bedroom balcony I could see everything. More than I wanted to see.

The Karaoke Girls

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The Karaoke Girls are not appreciated. Not nearly enough and not often enough.

The Men Who Forgot Math and Poetry

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"They treat us like shit," the mathematician said. "They think they can just take us and electrocute us and drown us."