Most read stories

On The Stoop

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The leaves were meaningless because they were no longer connected to the trees.

Fumes

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He was choking on the fumes.

Perchance to Dream

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Catherine, after another haunted, bewildering morning wondered if there might be a way to hide from her nightmares. Was there a way to trick them? Shouldn't she try? She drove over the bridge, something she didn't often do, to buy…

ace in the hole

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hookers are better educated these days

Jouissance

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BECAUSE to fuck is an incidental REASON to be here

Wedding

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The service was a disaster. The Protestants bobbed up and down. They didn't know when to stand, when to sit. I

Thalassophobia

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Except where its waves break gently,/ white frothed and reassuring along the shore,

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 …

The Ghosts in the Meeting

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No one had told the newer tenants that the dead would be given votes, and they were in an uproar: it wasn’t legal; it wasn’t fair; it was creepy.

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.

House

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I sat in the dark, mashing damp sand like clumps of brown sugar into my palm while the heavy Gulf air blew my hair into ropes. Sometimes I worried that I was unable to need people, but, as much as the thought upset me, I couldn't make myself truly want t

Cousin

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“The beginning was good. That’s what he likes. The moment when you’re driving in the open air and your hair is flying and your skirt is whipping up around your knees, and he’s smoking, of all things, and happy and looking at you."

The Way Home

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Her back turned, she wanders off searching for the way home wringing her hands, trying to think, but thoughts evade her.

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 16

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There was all this pomp and circumstance. We were each outfitted with robes, red of course, and mortar-boards with a gold tassel dangling over one eye. It made me positively dizzy. Plus I was extremely hung-over that day.

Poem for Ivor

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How to capture in word, in song, the fleeting moments of our loveYou were hereAnd now you're goneEven as I used to lie next to you,bathed in the care and concern that emanated from your warm black brown eyes,I knew there would be that day, that you were no moreDestined for…

Gehryspeak

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IN nature, it's hard to find a straight line. Stand on a beach. Look out to sea. There out far you might think you see a line where the sky comes down to join. Where two fields of blue meet. But where you're not quite sure for the line is a blur there. You…

Echoes

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

Private Red

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Your favorite nickname existed only in the bright red cherry smoldering at the end of your smoke.

Carousel Horses

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From this distance, he reminded me of a sleazy pink flamingo, waiting for feeding time at the zoo to deepen the timbre of his feathers and hint at the promise of a narcotic aviation before his commune of hens.

Did You Get Two

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“106 more miles,” she said.

In Distress

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When a multinational big box furniture store opened just off the expressway outside the city selling all the same products at greatly reduced prices, they contemplated the possibility of closing their store.

Inconsequential

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I write poems as if language matters.

We Loved We Laughed We Cried

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My wife broke the news to me. She enjoyed it, too, I'm certain of that. It was a juicy piece of gossip.

tweaker

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my molars are dancing, tekka-tekking to the strung-out paint can groove of my heart.

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.

Lick the Empire (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.3)

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Can you see the rut? Can you dig your fingers into the flesh?

This Can't Be Blank

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I don't know where to start. We're gaining flight. Did you seeanybody we know? The trees are always a concern. I don't thinkI know how to stop this thing from crashing into parked cars,that is if we live. You can say it was all on a stupid dare. They don't have to know…

Facsimile in Boots

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There she is. A paper doll of me. The dress, the lilt, the self-hatred. The crowd thins and swells in want of a scene. Conversations begin, pretend, then halt. My gin and tonic sweats into my hand and I lick at the…

Saturday Morning

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Saturday morning, and I’m pushing the old truck a little, chasing retreating bands of cloud shadows along a winding hilltop road.

Three Lullabies (after 'Ooh La La' by the Ditty Bops)

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she knows that's the natural place of a man, above everything, closest to god, eyes slowly filling with rain.