Most read stories

"The Misses Moses," from my collection Aliens in the Prime of Their Lives (Norton 2010)

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The Misses Moses by Brad Watson from Aliens in the Prime of Their Lives The Moses sisters lived together, alone, in the fine old brick house near downtown where they…

The Kid With the Hair

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threads of Cocoa Krispies

An Account of my Dwelling (for Kamo no Chômei)

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[B]y fleeing the city to live on the outskirts of nowhere—a place so far off the beaten path that even Duras’s aging Mr. Andesmas would have felt isolated—I was of course trying to escape from none other than myself.

The Tourists

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They acquire him in a bar that is famous for its shipwrecks.

Moon Talk

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moonbeams unrecognized language steadies my course

John Doe's Jeans

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In the panic following news of my motorcycle crash, my honey fled the house without coat or wallet, and now, nearly midnight, we don’t even have cab fare home.

Echoes

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...Heroin. It helped them get through the tricks and sucked up their flesh.

Conditions of a Narrator

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Moore doubted, perhaps, that readers could sympathize with a man who had killed someone for a cause or a girlfriend who forgave him. Perhaps she felt that maiming is (not) worse than murder. Perhaps she decided that the story should be about that.

Just Who Does Miller Think He Is?

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This new kid on the block, named Miller, showed up out of the blue one day, while we were throwing rocks and boulders down on this flimsy gray sheet of construction plywood that was covering an open trench in front of a new house on our block. One of the

Early Tuesday Morning

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The moon hung in the sky, round and pale, under cover of some wispy clouds.

It Seems You've Stumbled Upon My Bildungsroman

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Why yes I began writing this, my bildungsroman, Who is Mitsy Jackson, in spring, 1974 or thereabouts, and thank you so much for asking.

Impressionist Modern

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I'd never seen a dead person before, let alone one that was living just seconds earlier.

On Not Having an Affair With a Flamboyant Minor Dadaist Poetess

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It’s just that—well, I don’t know how to put this— With a Dadaist poet a non-affair is the height of erotic bliss.

Horizon

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She liked talking to him, even now, when they’d spent three years talking. She thought about other conversations with other men at other bars, some of the bars on the water and some of them tucked behind shopping centers or off of different h

Fear in a Handful of Dust

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I fear my personal information travels the World Wide Web/ and mad Ukrainians will steal my name and wealth./ I fear the fiscal cliff and raising the ceiling on national debt./ I fear a death by taxes.

Safe

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She left knives and hot pots with handles akimbo. Like a guardian angel, he turned them in. Like an ungrateful Eve, she turned them back out.

If I Were a Chemist, Not Now, but Maybe In The 1920s

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She said, “I think I’m pregnant,” but I thought that the sidewalk looked cleaner than usual,

How To Write a Poem

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an EZ How to Guide in 50 simple steps

Monday

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The door shuts slowly to something that’s allegedly mine and it sits there and waits until I come home just like you.

Self Pity

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The army was bulldozing grandmother's house.

Sausages

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When I cook sausages, I am afraid I will not let them sit in the pan long enough, and they will be pink inside. Then, even if the pigs have been handled humanely, I and the person for whom I've prepared this meal will be at risk for some terrible stomach poisoning.Let's say…

Food & Treasure

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She wakes up with rosemary.

21st Century Living

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there should be a word for it.

more horrid haiku

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a mere forty years/and maybe you become twelve,/maybe sixty-three.

Never Trust A Thief

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His looks were polished like his shoes, his hair as black. No one would have guessed he made his living as a thief.

After

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The next week, she sends a small white box in the mail / with tissue paper, a ceramic mold the color of bleached bone—

Baby Catalogue

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my mouth is open, ready to bite your tiny toes

Sparks Beneath the Surface

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If I should wake/ before I die,/ just shoot me through/ the one good eye.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 6

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Sure my man. Show me the token I’ll show you the slice.

Arcana Magi Zero + Pure - c.5

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Takashi and Hideki stared at the pool of grey Mana. A scientist carefully contained some of the mist into a container.