Most read stories

Too Weak for the World

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There was a certain romanticism in it, the salty old man sidling up to me at a bar, rhapsodizing in a slurred stream of conscious about the state of the world, the country, the state of his own heart. He didn't have an eye patch nor beard, nor was he…

fake letters in reply

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I did do one nice thing for you

Julia

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Six months later, she was teaching theology / to refugees from est.

My Drifter Doppelganger

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Looming ahead was another polite suburban party at which, after a couple of pops, I'd say something that embarrasses my wife in front of her girlfriends. Or so she claims.

Raise Really High The Roofbeam, Gassbag

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When I heard that my brother was going to get married, I was more surprised than anything, but also awed by his courage. Our sister, named Baah Baah during a particularly bad recreational substance binge by our fun-loving, aristocratic parents, Nancy and

Bearing Witness

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I hold them to the light...

The Book

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The following is a true story, or rather it is a true experience from the story of my life. Some say that just because something happens doesn’t really make it “true”.

New World

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The flash of love was real, the life within her was real, and the main thing now was to climb.

Wild Dreams of Reality, 13

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At 7:30 that evening my brother knocked on Parker's front door. When I went to let him in, sweat was running off Darrell's head like he'd been hit by a water balloon. The air was absolutely unmoving, and there was the smell of tar from the asphalt in th

Hara-kiri

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unwrapping the gauze from her wrists....

Twinsburg

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We knew this year would be different because we bought bikinis. We had never worn bikinis before. Our swimsuits had always been shiny one-pieces with stripes, or polka dots, or tiny yellow fish. Not this year. It was a hot summer and the department store was overly …

Cantina

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It's good enough. Spacious. Then the cards but I am not for cards. Sasha directs the people, helping them, at ease and happy even. Strangers that have found a common denominator in games. A brotherhood and sisterhood I can't understand. I watch. I see green…

Your Last Rooster

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But his muscles fluttered and off he flew leaving the stink of barnyard on the sheets.

"Is Your Stomach Making You Sad?" and Other Conundrums of 21st Century Life

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The questions we ask ourselves define who we are as a culture. “What is the meaning of life?” “Is there a God?” “Does anybody really know what time it is?” “Where the hell did I put my car keys?” To see what…

The Tongues of Spring

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Another new spring and the leaves

Gaza Suite

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Tender bodies sizzle on the grill.

Dancing on the Rhythm Bus–One Night after Leaving The Pyramid Club, 1991

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The next day I can’t recall at all, a waste, like the flash of twenty years of my life, faces that pass you like comets in some erogenous unnamed zone of night, but they got me in some isolation room with my wrists in leather restraints.

The Taming

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N-n-never screamscold a cat.

Only Temporary

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It was the middle of May when I found out my teacher was screwing my mother.

my son

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his mother brought him to me/ when he was very young/ maybe a few months old,/ born in arizona july.

Robot Museum

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ABSOLUTELY DO NOT TAKE PICTURES OF ROBOTS!

Glue

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There is no cement stronger than the one holding a miserable couple together.

Poem on the Table

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Its intelligence won’t be/ diminished when you take/ a bone saw to its cranium

Roy and Ray

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Roy Carver owned a big tire retreading outfit over on the Mississippi.

Doctor Eyepatch

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That contraption he’d invited her to pedal, somebody oughta market one of those. The closer you got the harder it got, and her feet kept slipping off the pedals. It was maddening.

Three Teeth

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Three teeth. You can pick them out if you hit pause just right. Probably not a person in the entire valley who hasn’t seen that video from the Eastern Cheerleading Finals. They even showed the tape on the eleven o’clock news in Scranton, my face ci

The History of Strands

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We cannot love the past...

Manifesto

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I write poems.

The Search

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“Sixty-seven responses!” Al Edelstein announces at the first meeting of the search committee. It has been just two weeks since Rabbi Feldman dropped dead of a heart attack and just a week since the congregation ran the ad: “Help Wanted: Orthodox Rabbi. Im

don't let the flames chase you away

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my maddening pyromaniac,/ you're burning up my heart/ so open up your broad-toothed mouth/ and let me pour the ashes in.