Most read stories

What's Wrong

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I’ll tell you what’s wrong

To Do List

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Throw them up there but try to make it look tidy. Try to become a little bit paranoid, just enough that you slightly overestimate how much they think of you at all.

This Is A Warning

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Walking home, carrying his guitar case, Jed felt the sums of his life adding up to dangerously high numbers, the deadly inertia of vaguely comfortable apathy swallowing his time. His moment would soon be fading. Because, like many young men before him, Jed…

Self Help For Daydreamers

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I think I’ll get a tattoo. Not just any tattoo, one I’ll regret. I’ll catch people peering at it, trying to interpret the twists and swirls of the black ink on my fair skin.

Ackermann

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When he took Medieval German Lit in graduate school, Ackermann read Der Ackermann aus Böhmen by Johannes von Tepl. His professor was amused both by his last name and that his grandparents were Germans from Bohemia. Of course, only his grandmother was from Bohemia and…

The Mish

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So begins your new career in the car service business. In some ways you enjoy it, too. Sitting alone in the cab each day, totally your own boss; you get a surge of excitement inside thinking about the money you'll make in a way that requires so little work. Clearing two…

Two Little Words

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I'll never be a Republican Megadonor or a Doomed Aviatrix. But I'm okay with that.

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…

Nausea

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It’s been a series of bad clams

Momma and Me

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

Receding Haiku

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love weaves a perforated web between the spikes of longing

The Glass Shop

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She burst Into the glass shop

Hearts

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She thought of an animal checking a scent before mating, and imagined that he said to himself, “All I need is for this woman to be hitting on me.”

just a girl on a couch

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behind the curtainof a ballsy fragilitythere lives an easethat was not easythere exists a gracethat is not always gracefulbeauty can maskcheekbones that sometimes look sadwhen they are smilingeven grin determinationneeds downtimethe prize is still thereeven if the eyes…

Curves

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and the smiles light the way when the wind blows the darkness

Listening to Neil Young on a Gray Day and Understanding Clearly What My Grandfather Told Me Long Ago

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I'm a lot wiser now but so what?

A Museum of Numbers

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At street level there is a small arrow on which is printed “Museum of Numbers” that points up a long narrow staircase. There is a restaurant on the first floor. All the way up the stairs, the air is permeated with smell of fried foods

Do I hear Ten Thousand?

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I cannot begin to list all the ways this conversation can go downhill from here, so I hang up the phone quietly.

Life Apart

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Practice has perfected disengagement.

Much Ado About Exploring.

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John was sitting at his computer one night after work, when he read an article linked to him by a friend.

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 12

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But Von Rotten was up in Penny’s room right this minute, either banging her or haranguing her, or worse, both. I envisioned him with her, and my guts began twisting and turning, and my insides fell into my shoes. What had I done? She was being held capt

der Morgenmuffel

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I sat on the corner of her desk ... Angela Merkel can be a sweetie when she wants to be.

Still Crazy After All These Years

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Dr. van Roos reminded the group that trauma is trauma...

The Good Old Days

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What she didn't tell me was that her brother Carl got fried during an electrical storm.

On Socks

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There’s a hole in my sock, just large enough that my big toe keeps slipping out.

#HOWRU

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Where you used to exist, there will only be spaces.

When I Asked You to Sing at My Funeral

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It's because poetry would not do because the fireflies were alive that night, aflame

Bad Back

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Sharpie marked, Free Still Works

No Nows Now

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. . . did you notice yesterday afternoon how for an entire quarter hour five o’clock itself looked for a few minutes as if it would never arrive?

for one dedicated to artemis

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artemis is but a mincing fawn:/ no sacred bitches need i in my ranks,/ nor hunting dogs to tear a man apart/ when i have teeth enough to bruise fine flanks.