Most read stories

OUT

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All I wanted was to love her.

Momma and Me

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

Goldfish

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The guy stretches out his arm as he rounds up the herd of ducks that only want to bob. He pulls down his sleeve over a heart tattoo, faded from being seen so many times. It’s a skinny sort of heart tattoo, an askew heart from where I stand, an arrow fro

Bread

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I am standing in the kitchen, kneading dough, because this is one way to say sorry. This is way to say, things will be different now, look.

Unseenly

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Over the years, his face began to alter

Emily's Letter to her Husband's Lover

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I almost kept him on the shelf with all the trophies.

February 1975 Lansing, MICHIGAN

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Ripper the dog died after eating a Quarter which had lodged in Ripper's throat choking her to death. Steve Latino buried her in the backyard the next morning. He felt nothing…

SoliTaire

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She couldn’t help but wonder what 93 year-old Sohrabjee looked for in the torn, dusty lithograph of Marilyn in Persia one of the orderlies had stuck to the wall of the corridor outside Jasmine Wing decades ago.

Or Do You Love It?

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published in The Doctor T.J. Eckleburg Review.

Snatch (6)

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"What?"

Her Own Age

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He had a country house, she said, but it was near the city. She said the house was about as old as he was and she loved it— from the wood-framed windows to the heavy wood doors... to the garden on the side of the house

The tenth point of possession being this... Rev2

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Guys on safari wearing safari jackets shoot things all day, things with funny names …

Sea Shell

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Useless.

Six Points of Light/ Dark Star

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Johan was telling stories about the occupation. The Germans were stupid, he said.

A Butterfly For A Married Woman

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A married woman requests a butterfly tattoo that won't please her husband from an old tattoo artist.

Word Fish

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Looking with his ears, Hearing with his eyes, Not really mute, he simply didn't know how to speak.One word, then another string together,a crack spreads across an ice covered lake. Now there is an open channel, and his thoughts roil the…

A Night Ride With the Conservative Poetry Enforcers

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We've got our gang colors on because we're out for retribution. T.S. Eliot made an appearance at a writer's conference on De-Privileging the Dead White Male last night, and the head of a low-residency poetry program tossed hot green tea on him.

Why We Were Arrested

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We have a responsibility,” she says, “to enrich our local business community while delivering quality products to customers.” She had brought over some application forms for the Better Business Bureau, and we sit at the big table and fill them out, marki

Filth and Splendor: A Love Story

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Solomon just makes people leak. Literally.

Waiting

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She saw no sense in waiting. Waiting was a weakness.

I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien

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You can’t start living in The Netherlands just like that; you need to be registered first. Once an official has confirmed you’re the person you claim to be, you can start in a job. Once an employer has confirmed you’re employed, you can apply for yo

SWAMPLANDS by Paul D. Brazill

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Elvis awoke in a cold, dank sweat, hungover from bourbon and bad dreams.

Cheese (train writings)

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"This tastes like goat cheese," I said.

Five Being Ten at the New Afterlife Dance Theatre

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We got our holes in our hearts bundled onto soft wrapping cloth just like the gentleman on TV said; with smiles we set out towards our matching end of the same old stories. That's just the way…

Snatch 8 (the zombie flash sequence--it never dies)

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Oh, gracious mercy, oh...

In A-B-C Order

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When she was nineteen, she began to brew a baby in her belly. She named it, and sang to it, and organized the leftover hand-me-downs that hadn't been worn ragged through by the first seven sets of recipients.

A Black Cat

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And then, and then, and then! After all that, this. After all that bullshit with her Dad, the Associate Principal, the idiotic counselor, and that psychotic police officer, after all that, this: a dead black cat. Blocking her path! Right in the middle of the street! …

GONE

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The box thuds at your feet: mug, plant, wedding photo, the 25-year pen.

SOME NIGHTS

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Some nights you really feel it.

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 14

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I only knew that my heart was not in my life as I was presently living it. I needed the breasts of my Helen in my mouth forever, or I was going to die. Die! Ah, the life of a poet! I couldn’t go on living like this. Why should I go on living like this?