Most read stories

Brian Epstein's Letter to His Mother

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All that loves green produces green.

Sharp Was the Blade: chapter from Ari Figue's Cat

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You do not open the wound all at once. You do not slice or cut or slash. You stroke, as a lover's finger strokes the skin of her beloved. You slide the blade lightly over the surface. You do not think, I am hurting myself. You do not think, pain. You slid

A Glimpse

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I am everything she wanted me to be. I am crossed legs, chest out; I am wearing a soft white dress—lacy and completely inappropriate to the Midwest, to 2011, to anything about my existence.

The Look

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He looks in silence and he looks with longing.

Losing (Valentine's Day Massacre Poem)

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Paid and laid, they leave.

3 Unforgotten Remembrances

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A useful skill. Tonic immobility. I cannot forget...the first year I was a woman...trying to believe the truth I tell...

Moth Woman

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I sat on the top step and watched the woman go down and stand in the middle of the room, raising her hands as if to touch them and I half expected the moths to lift the ends of her hair, the hem of her skirt, and fly away with her.

Cubicle Genie*

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At the TV station across the street two sports team mascots are dancing and miming for the cameras. There are some young men wearing baseball caps at the viewing window simulating sex acts for the cameras.

On A Trans-Atlantic Flight

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I used to think I could see God in the clouds. Not in an indefinite expanse of clear blue, calm and crisp and quiet, desperate in its infinity, but somewhere up there, among the water vapor masses between us and eternal sky. Not in gray and grumpy nimbostratus, nor fine…

If I Kiss That Girl

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Because she is waiting, seated on my hotel bed, making comments about my sonic white toothbrush being a vibrator, telling me she's bi, gorgeous with her poly-amorous discussion and long brown curling hair, with her fawn-like face and delicate breasts, wit

The Sound of One Story Clapping

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And aren't we are so then so rarely The hero in another's story When we want to be. And why are we so always Rounding stories on the heroes Who don't want to be? And aren't we are so then are so rarely Heroes in each others' …

The Snow Whale

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“I found out the most amazing thing,” Mike said. “I used to be like everyone else. But I sent away for a DNA test where they trace your ancestry.”

Three Stories Of You

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There's a story of you who says to go on, to walk the room, to pretend to contemplate. Promises that if you lift your hand your head will follow. Assures you when your bones reignite there will be day, there will be night, and you'll know which is which. Don't worry about…

Suky Tawdry's Cab

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yet fiction, despite contrary reports, from two ends of the American spectrum, does not mean lies, in my HUM

When To Break Up With Your Gynecologist

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He asked what I used for birth control and I told him, “prayer”. He smiled the kind of smile you smile at young girls who don’t know any better.

A Horse Walks into a Bar

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I got this job where I sell snow cones from a cart in a petting zoo. Parents ask if their children can take pictures with me. I neigh and nod my big horse head. After my shifts, I go into the bar, still in my getup, as this horse, and the bartender says,

I Hear You & Other Stories

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All the attractive women in the building had secrets. He wanted to know their secrets, but they wouldn't say.

Badabing Badaboom

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Tony Soprano said, “My pal Franco is a misunderstood hopeless romantic. If you don't capiche that, I'll have a conversation with your kneecaps.”

Dr. Doom

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I passed out one night while I was standing at the sink brushing my teeth.

Tasting Calamine

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Scratching must be like what crack is.

Blue Pinto

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“Just curious,” Sean says, “but what’s up with the old Pinto out front?” She looks at him. “It’s my boyfriend’s.” Her green eyes are flat: What business of yours?

Another Version of My Life, in Which I am Played by Meryl Streep

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Rerunning, now it's published.

THE PREVIOUS ADVENTURES OF POPEYE THE SAILOR

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It's an easy thing to take out an eye.

Petty Injuries

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Fault and blame can be forgotten after three steep flights of stairs. Pregnant-lady-take-the-elevator kind of steep. I-said-elevator, holy-shit-she’s-falling kind of steep. A-faked-relief-when-the-child-is-born, but-born-special kind of steep.

DICKEY DEW

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One of my father’s friends never had a name so everyone called him Dickey Dew because he said that’s what everyone called him after he got his balls shot off in Vietnam. I used to sit on his lap while they played five card draw and he would pretend no

Jacques Derrida, 9/11, And The Democracy Which is Yet to Come

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The decision to wage war on terrorism gave to terrorism its political legitimation.

Gyrle (n.) - Boy or girl

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Is it better to have a boy or a girl? That's not a rhetorical question. I'm really asking. When I was four, I used to wedge myself in between the wall and refrigerator and yell out, “Help! I'm stuck!” It was my mom's least favorite game. Meanwhile, half a

Flatulence

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He was not supposed to leave handcuffs or a butt plug laying around.

Our Kodak Moment

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“Should I go over?” Ma asked, wishing she could freshen her lipstick while finger-combing her frosted hair. “Sarah, fagodsake, let the man eat in peace. No one wants to have his picture made with food in their mouth,” said Pa.

Thursday

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I will die in Paris on a rainy day.