Most read stories

A House Burning

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There won't be dancing, anymore. That isn't true, that can't be true; but there is no floor to dance on, you know?

Moving On

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The woman finished packing her things as the man walked in. They looked at one another for a long moment. …

Rejection at the Gates of Heaven

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"Some Purgatory in order, innit?"

Kimchi Hatchet

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“You’re not Jesus"

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 …

Heartlong

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... reason never lies...

A Body Divided, 3

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A group of nuns arrived in the middle of my first night at Hinsdale Hospital. I guess I must have dozed off when this odd noise, like curtains being moved, woke me up. At first I couldn't make out what that rustling sound was in the hallway outside my doo

Bird Noises

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Let's buy this robin's egg blue furniture. Okay. Let's buy this album full of wren songs. Uh, okay.

Anniversary Waltz

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He hiked the hills of her condition She biked the path of his delight

If I Could Locate the Tether that Keeps Me Here I Would Chew Off the Limb That It's Tied To

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She is face down in the snow

FLY

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The light hurts my eyes, she says.She turns her back to me on the bed, and her shoulder blades shift and jut towards me with aerodynamic lift — nubbin wings so slim, so sharp, so beautiful, they would carry her airborne.She wanted to have our children in this…

March

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Crows etc.

Novel excerpt: "Home Cure"

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He picked up the bottle of gin, looked at it. "Not a lot left," he said. "There's enough," she replied. She took the bottle and lifted it to her lips. "Are you ready?" she asked. "For what?" "You'll see."

The Pennsylvania Kaufmann House

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Falling Water almost fell./ 12 million dollars later// it will splay itself a little longer

The Soft, Cool Blanket of Night

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wrap me in the soft, cool blanket of night. waning,the moon peers down at melike the heavy-lidded eye of some cyclops. and if I be lost like poor Odysseus,cloak me in the soft, warm wool of night. and if my eyes fail me like old Tiresias,stitch the cloth with…

The Model

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This is the world of an urgent art, the room silent, except for the constant sound of the camera.

Sake

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I had the smallest taste. Liquid heat, gifted from lips. One long moment spent lost in her warmth. Fleeting. I should have drunk more. Would she have relented to one more sip? One final taste? “Be careful,” she…

Brock & Cheryl: Comp

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This Tippy’s name was Cheryl — something both of them were so far not committing to paper or saying. Unusual in a salesman, she thought. He is insincere and intends to sell her something.

Poems I Wish I Had Written

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Parsimony, Sage Advice, Alimony, and Time. That would be one. The Waste Land. The Hollow Men. The Red Wheelbarrow. There are others, But I have definite shoe anxiety dreams and can’t get over them. Do not Go Gently Into That Good Night. Alone

Predator

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Uncounted hens and piglets/ die at my demand. The killing floor// runs red for me. I am/ monstrous to creatures small and great,

The Drone

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"He turns in his bed, and reaches for a body, like the blind to braille."

taking work home with you

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the sound of ashes/ being poured in the kitchen

The Big Name Buttons

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Pay attention: our names were Bobby, Didi, Joanie, Mitch and Sam. It was popular in those days to wear big name buttons across your chest, and we’d line up side-by-side as we watched our reflections affix said buttons, anchoring them to our stiff lapels

the cold the day left

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in our teens as tough as the cold/we wore denim and flannel with our boots/kicking at whichever wind blew . . .

Heat

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Flames dance behind glass

Silent Season

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we are tired, you and I.

Marylou's Baccalaureate

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In between ketchup-covered fries, a Quarter Pounder, and a vanilla shake, catty comments, and lots of laughs, Marylou slipped in her announcement, a grenade in a rose garden. “I'm pregnant,” she said.

The Color

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The artist glides through an art supply store looking for a color within. She can feel the color, but she can't name it. She can almost see it, but it's not that kind of color. It's not like, say, blue or red, a primary color that animates flags or exotic ceremonies.…

For Kate

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I had to kill someone today. Do not be alarmed, she was only real to me.

The Letter

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I knew nothing about the letter at first. When I came in that morning and smiled and said good morning, it was a genuine smile and a heartfelt good morning. But the letter, which had arrived the previous afternoon, was already doing its corrosive work of