Most read stories

Nothing to laugh at, at all.

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The house had to be clean - I mean thorough-clean - when he got home from the pit for his tea, or he’d throw his plate at the wall and the gravy would run down onto the carpet. There was always gravy.

Air

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In the gutter, the paper signs turned back to pulp.

chicken little considers the sky again

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oh, sure i’m still running around like a heads-up/off/prophet/profit/fit trying to cut off my very own de/(con)instruction and all other sordid a•void•able & available/a-Babel towers of post &toastmodern doom/daze

Layover Memories

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It was a pleasant time, my thoughts were mostly good ones, with little effort wasted on regret.

Our Names Are Written In Water

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Passing us in a delicate swirl of light perfume and healthy girl sweat, three bare midriff elfin, baby dykes with pencil thin eyebrows, and chic art hair cuts, swaggered in like cool young gunfighters straight off the cover of Bad Baby Butch Vogue

Words of Departure

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Not a fuss, not a stink, The eulogy, deep, will make one think, Grandmother, sat in back, will wink

River Run

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yearning amid the waning

blanck (1?)

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① / empty space / not black / not white / not noise / blanck

the swan drives a car

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the swan drives a car ( window down; wing half hanging out ) …

Not Lao-tzu's Magna Carta, lxiv - lxxii

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words have their own ancestors,/deeds are commanded by their own lords./ knowledge and thought do not make me understand—/no surprise, then, that I am not understood.

Fertile Ground

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Miriam forced herself to focus on the kitchen door and on putting one foot in front of the other. “Is everything alright?” she heard Ada ask the family. “Of course, everything is fine,” the woman said. “What could be wrong other than the impossible serv

Crooning

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It was a lover’s dark. They had been talking for hours when daylight lost interest and had gone elsewhere for sport.

All Seeing

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Our Core Values define evil as the concealment of information. And those who conceal information are evil.

Out of Character

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Co-workers have started calling him Jesus, Manson, Foghat, Doobie Brother, hippie, hipster, Grizzly Adams, Dude Lebowski... there’s really no end to it.

Anniversary Waltz

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

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.

Curry

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I looked around in my pantry but there were no sentences I felt like cooking.

LATE NIGHT WITH MANDELBROT

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On Soapography, two actresses are discussing everyone’s personal heaven, and in another room you can hear a woman who is your dead mother combing her hair in a doctor’s smock in a dream,

We call them the Removal Men

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They came early and parked up, under cover of the night and the giant oak. I only know this because people told me afterwards. Watching us, they were. It was six o'clock before they smashed their way in, scaring the three of us out of our wits. Baby Billy screamed the place…

Rowdy

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Flash’s hackles stood brushlike but he kept his head bowed just enough beneath the bigger dog’s stare to delay the inevitable fight. Flash, Mal thought approvingly, would pick the time and place.

elegy to the death of an empire

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lol romney

The Agreement

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

Exchange Student

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Sometimes he could feel so small he believed he could fit through the eye of a needle.

A Brief, Protracted Reflection

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...Loves and fights and retires; / And dies.

A World of Possible Flowers

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"There are many dark places;but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater."--J.R.R. Tolkien If the love never came you must have been Dragging your feet. If the hatred carved your…

Keep the Peace

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I thought, what are we talking about? Botox?

Cogito Zero Sum

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When you encounter a body laying on the road, drive over it.

Indulgence

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I crave the confines of the convent

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 5

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When the cab dropped Frank at his address at seven that evening, he noticed the lights were on in Michiko’s apartment.

Childish

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woke up to the sound of a diesel looked out the window to see i’m not home outta bed to see if you had called not a damn thing on my phone