Most read stories

Portrait of a Sunday Afternoon

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Your grandmother has gotten old, in that way where one day you wake up, and you realize that someone you've been looking at your whole life suddenly looks different. That hands which used to gently place band-aids on scraped knees are…

At the Fair

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You're on the Ferris wheel, and the wind is blowing just a little bit, and the sky is invisible behind a wash of white clouds, and your little yellow box tips when you look down, down to the fairway swinging. In the boxes below grandmothers are shrieking …

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.

Suicide - The Failsafe

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Yesterday morning I sank to the depths of hell and barely crawled out in time. There is no answer except possibly death that will find me relief from his distant presence. I am free but yet I am not and I slowly sink into a hollow world where nothing hurt

O'Arlo's Journal: About Myself

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Every morning if I don't have to go potty....

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.

The Girl With the Dresden Blue Eyes

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Your girlfriend with the Dresden blue eyes with the sleek belly & gorgeous scars from ripping off Avenue A dealers has you on a leash of short-term amnesia. You can't recall the last time you got off from being trigger-happy inside her & you formed a…

The Grave of Rimbaud

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I visited the grave of Rimbaud. / It was pale blue

The Art of the Ruin

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The ghosts run before/ attacking horsemen. A heart/ is ruptured by a spear.

A Desperate Tweak

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I have two of those hand exercisers jamming the tray and keeping it locked in place

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

Happy Birthday... Mr. President

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Her dress swirled around her as she stepped into the ballroom, looking every bit as sultry as her recent Playboy cover...

Assiduity Four

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Her clothing style varies from grunge to glamor and . . . she always looks good.

Sweden 1958, I-IV

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didn't know how to do it just tried to squeeze on the teats didn't know I had to grab up on the udder and pull Unca Ole laughed

Librarians Love Me!

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Librarians love me, you want to know why? I don’t dog-ear pages, I don’t even try.

The Yellow Room

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...the knives she laid out on the porch before her husband left her, washed and dried, set neatly by copper pennies.

On Socks

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

whip

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under a laughing moon

Home Health Care

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But what if it grew into a nasty tea party-ish bimbo right winger -- a little Michelle Bachmann nubbin?

Win Some, Lose Some

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Afterward, at the motel, I asked her why she liked sex so much, and she said she liked the taste.

Three as She Lay Sleeping

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As I watched her sleep, I saw gentle frost and sun on crystal.

Sounds

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They try to incorporate a little of Ravel around their edges, the ones where their molecules bump off into other parallel realities, into other non-localities, into other potentials. She isn't buying it. She's tuned in. And she can tell.

Keep Your Man Crazy in Love the Redbook Way

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You are like gasoline on the fire of my desire–you send me higher and higher into paroxysms of earth-shaking erotic explosions. Remember–the “light” catfood is the kind in the turquoise bag.

Song of Another Country

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And she warms her hands on fresh-cut gizzards, And he forgets the taste of honeyed peaches

Run For Your Life

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It was where the “Suits” worked. I didn’t want to go there, I didn’t want to be there, but in those days one did what one was supposed to do.

NEWS

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Truman sits in his car on an early Tuesday morning. He rolls down both front windows down, but despite the infusion of fresh air, the car still smells of stale meat and sickness.

When it Gets Dark

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The world—the natural world—was terrible and beautiful in wartime. The leaves shuddered off trees. The pockmarked fields. The fallen brick chimneys. The way the birds heaved together in enormous flocks like rescue missions and then just as…

Lost

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I can't find my way back to the library. I've heard of this happening, that if you leave even for just one day and for a very good reason, as good a reason as mine, you may not find your way back. Now why should this be so? I do not understand this library. It houses…

Victoria Gate

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Maybe she was crying before she got on the coach at Marble Arch, settled in the seat across from me, but by the time we reach Victoria Gate, tears stream down her face, mouth open to receive her own sacrament.Indian, ageless in tasteful floral, a blue sweater despite summer…

Dog

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I’m not the creative type like my friend Bosely, an Irish Setter. I’m a traditionalist. I like to eat exactly at 8:30 a.m. and 6 p.m. I take my bone with me everywhere I go. I will not carry the poop-bag.