Most read stories

Portrait

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Hers or mine? You figure it out, jackass.

Chlorine Dream

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death spoke in a swimming pool in late june:

For the Wives

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She parks the car and trudges insidefor her daily visithoping that the new rouge hidesthe old tears.Five years now she has been comingto see himHe looks nothing like the pictures toanyone but her.They say she should go homeand rest, relaxShe doesn't know how…

Karmic Tide

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Digging in another garden, jumping into another space and time, I impaled a toad on the tines of a garden fork. At first I thought the toad was a clump of clay, stuck to the thick tine, but before I could kick the clay off with my…

Hitting the Wall

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I tried to talk, but only / whispers slithered out.

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

Gemini

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Not many people like Geminis.

Good morning, Mr. Mourning!

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Now, I am getting angry! Now you want me depressed too! GET OUT! GET OUT!

The Arrival

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Everybody knew it would happen. It didn’t happen exactly when or how they thought it would, but nonetheless it happened. “I told you it would happen,” a bearded man told his wife.

Assiduity Twenty Two

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Warning: reader beware, there's sex in the air.

The Work of Beauty

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the steady, persistent work of beauty

Sed-a-give

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The way she once felt for another, naked mornings in her bed, and Young Frankenstein. Sed-a-give.

Freddy in the Future

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“Me try anything,” he says, then laughs a little. “You’re fucked.”

Bukowski

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that guy/ MOSTLY understood / endings

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…

On Socks

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

My Life As A Series Of Houses (1950-1968)

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There were three other guys on the bus. The landlord (or buslord) let us use the kitchen and bathroom in the house he shared with his wife. I rode into San José City College with the other guys, who were also taking classes there. I remember frigid autum

Living Through Fuzzy

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They politely urged him not to get too involved with his creations.

Robert, The Architect

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Robert Townsend had planned his suicide for ten years, and on July 10th, 2010 he took a long, hot shower to set the mood.

If a Gun is Introduced, it Must Eventually Fire

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His note said: “I’m sick of low attendance.”

Struggle Has Ended

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Shh! What? The downstairs neighbors. They’re at it again. What? It’s the weekend? They’re both home? Oh. Remember? I think so. Sort of. Shh! What’s that grunting? He must be doing the heavy lifting. Sounds like he’s hurt

The Threshold of Unfinished Business

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Uh oh, the dry cleaning ticket

Oyster

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I used to love myselfin hidden burstsforbidden momentsof pleasure in my morning bedlater, I numbedmy senses and stumbled blindlyinto wild sensationsof releaseand called itecstasyintensity is a drugfear, grief, anger,as seductive as joy,makes the heart pump,the blood rush…

LA Blues

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smells prettier

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...

Blind Observer.

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I sat there, observing the city people. Frowns upon all our faces. The rain moistened my heart and journal. A blind family; a trio. They used their wands to lead the way.Their faces read joy but, most importantly, satisfaction.My envy filled the damp page.

Birth Mothers, Seeking

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A blonde girl, her youth evident beneath a cosmetic mask of bruised eye shadow and plum lipstick, claims the seat beside me on a train. A radiant six month-old gazes out from her hip, awe-struck at life, as my own son must have been at that age. I never e

Cole Porter Song Parody

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A brief novel excerpt featuring two characters breaking out in song, with lines like 'Arabian knights dance sheikh to sheikh.'

Flight Path

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Those who love aluminum bellies and landing gear and ailerons... that ilk... settled at the western edge of of LAX 24R 6L and called the encampment Flight Path.

The Agreement

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Our Irish tradition is rich in Yeats, drenched in Bushmills.