Most read stories

Not If, But When

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She tells me I have to face the fact that I have the heart of the Tin Man. I know the story. He had none. She is very sensitive and I have to measure my remarks because words bruise her so easily. So, I…

More from the Chronicles of His Demise

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Only scotch and cheap champagne/ retain their reliable flavors.

Grief Has No Welcome Garment

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Twice burned, it buries its graves.

Sowers of Nothing (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.2)

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We dig up conscience-tunnels, pluck the play-flower of present choice for fun, run aground, past this dimly lit, though not to be underestimated, stage, and open door upon empty door, to nothing, for the lights are a pulse flickering in the perceptual per

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.

Death Is No Big Deal.

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The suite of dark rooms/ extends forever./ It’s no big deal.

Now

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‘Miguel! A pint of Guinness, please!' I might as well have asked for his mother's immortal soul. A smile as benign as a stiletto. But he served a clean and tidy pint.

The Fourth Prague Defenestration: 13

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The next thing we knew, the KGB started tailing us everywhere we went. They must have heard about Lenin’s Paintings, was all we could figure. Because, what if they were real? That night we went out to a pizza place where we saw the worst graffiti in t

Air On The G String

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If love could only by heat be bound

On Socks

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

Pretend

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SOME NIGHTS

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Some nights you really feel it.

Stones

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Henry and I had met at the hospital. He'd been forty years my senior, but we'd been in for precisely the same reason: kidney stones.

Too Fast to be Fat

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As it turns out, hypertravel is surprisingly slimming.

Power

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You're thinking I don't have a conscience, right? I'm asking you.

Flannery O'Connor's Tea Party

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“He's the one who took five tries to find your vein during your last blood draw, right?” This question spilled from the row of twenty EKG machines that now made up the hospital building's larynx

Dishwasher

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Last night aliens invaded our dishwasher.

The Clairvoyant Dwarf, The Jester, and the Tame Elk of Prague

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All were part of the household of Court Astronomer Tycho Brahe (1546-1601) who lost his nose in a duel as a student and went through life thereafter wearing a gold prosthetic one instead and who met and fell in love with a commoner who bore him eigh

Vienna

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I remember thinking the seasons are arriving later every year, as if the world has been slowed by the weight of graves.

Call Me Naked

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[He] practiced aromatherapy and licentiousness, in no particular order.

Blue Line Southbound

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Brazilian girls yammer with their book bags up against my leg.

The Tale of Pregnant Tinkerbelle

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Everyone was shocked when they heard Tinkerbelle was six days gone and had got so heavy she couldn't fly. Who could have done it, everyone asked, but Tinkerbelle wasn't telling. So no one knew. That isn't true. I knew, and in this Declaration I swear I will tell…

Hopper

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"Hey, man. All we represent to them, man, is somebody who needs a haircut."

The Unknowable

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He’d tossed and turned all night, pondering what to do, afraid she was living alone. He’d decided to email her two words: “Love you” and signed it “Scary Sal,” as she’d always seemed so afraid of him.

Once There Was A Man

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And there sat one man. Searching for words and solace. The silence returned and the colors peeled off from the walls. Darkness returned with fledgling light. He threw back his head and filled the emptiness with his laugh. He laughed in mirth and in misery

Leda and the Swan: Paul Gauguin

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Leda looks back over her shoulder at us as the swan grips her from behind while at the same time nipping at the nape of her neck. She's a freckled child and a little frightened. There's a dark smudge beneath her eye where the shadow runs. The swan

Crescent City, Spring '97

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It takes almost an hour before I drift to sleep on the bus. When I wake up in Crescent City, I’m surprised. Maybe I was going somewhere else in my sleep. Walking out of the station, it feels like a strange place. Somewhere I’ve never been before. The

The Comedian

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Sitting near her desk, like a dunce cap, red

Late Night Learning

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A wrinkled man lie atop an ivory-clad mattress, matched sheets covered his body, matched hair covered his head.

Bosch's Last Words

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I / go my / way alone