Most read stories

The Old Dog (in response to Brian Warfield)

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Blend the dog a drink and sit down beside him and draw straws for regrets.

Artist's Statement: Oracle

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Mark Reep is a faded Polaroid oracle taped to the only unbroken window of an abandoned house in Ithaca NY.

The Four Despairs of Lumpy

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children love to push the gas up and down my limbs

Hands Like White Porcelain

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Jesus is for sale. But he’s heavy.

Tootsie Roll

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I can’t decide whether I want to be buried or cremated when I die.

Rob's Send-off

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They could cram Rob inside the trunk and then drop him somewhere in the dingles.

Prophetstown

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The elders of the town will tell you that as soon the prophet mill arrived everything went to Hell. Before the process was streamlined, prophets used to be grown organically in the community. They popped up only where the ground was tilled and a prayer was planted. They…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 40

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—Mazel tov, schmazel tov!

How Veetzers Set Us Up For the Zorks

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We're doomed as a species. The Zorks are coming to eat us. It all started when Joey Cacciatore, the dumbest crook in the history of the world, got Veetzers swarming like blowflies in 1972, and thereby ensured the upcoming…

Kimberlina

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...She smells like Mentholadium all the time which is one of them old lady smells. When I get up there, she says, “I’ll scrub the bee jesus out of you little girl,” and by God, I have a purty good bath that day.

The Mix Tape

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I made her a mix tape. It was revolutionary. Twenty-two songs she had to hear at least once in her life. I even drew some trippy drug-like designs on the label of the CD to make it seem more real. It was the ocean and the sun and every body of land balled up…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 24

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When Frank entered Michiko’s apartment, Michiko was not there.

T.S. Eliot On His Deathbed

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I guess at the end you’re only looking forward. Or upward actually, since you can only lie there on your back looking upward, straight ahead toward infinity, your mouth in a grimace, with the ghostly pink lips peeled back from the teeth.

Sisters

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What Did We Fight Over?

The Code of Hammurabi

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We pull up chairs. I breathe in her Bath and Body Works vanilla, read her paper slowly and aloud because the ears catch what the eyes miss. Her sentences are awkward, stilted.

Epiphenomenal Glider

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Hissing through the opening, the spirits have no place.

Summer, 1995.

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I am no different to her, living seven days ahead of myself, looking forward to looking back, as we Irish do so fondly

By Derangement of All Our Senses

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We will collapse in a storm of images

War Then

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They were just boys, the Nazis I mean, young in their twenties, not much older than my brother Cyril.

Alternate Tale

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Suppose Eve, strolling through the sunlit Garden, had not stumbled on that particular Tree at all, the wily serpent twined in its lower branches?

disparate haiku (mostly)

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faith in gravity/permitted them to extol/the guillotine's blade.

The Suicidal Juggler

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The man wore a bowler hat and stood on an open patch of grass, with a pyramid-shaped stack of baseballs at his feet.

How dare you?

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She took a deep breath. Last night, she said, Who was the woman?

Anonymous Hackers

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A university student who triggers a flash mob in the heart of Silicon Valley to prove her hacking creds finds herself in deep trouble when the colorful members of Anonymous Hackers prove their hacking creds to her.

Far As You Want

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At a rest stop in Montpelier, they stopped to buy Cokes and gum from the vending machines. He was showing off, trying to jimmy one of the locks with a safety pin but it stayed locked and she laughed at him and he said goddamn, look at all a them Milkyways

Space Program

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Mercury and Gemini disappointed.

The Eleventh Brother, After the Swan

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I turned a maiden to a witch / and back again

Mai Tai Daze

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Some people hate Waikiki. Not me. Most hotels had lounges with live music, either inside or around the pool. Evenings were spent bar hopping up and down the strip, Kalakaua Avenue. The bars stayed open till 4:00 a.m. It was safe to walk…

From Below

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I can hear the echoes clearly. They are distinct and crisp, almost as though they're all on exact trajectories to me from their final bounce, without any interference. Each sound, while unintelligible, seems to fit perfectly and expectantly into my ears

Intro to Philosophy

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We now live in post-Postmodern Absurdist fear of course, says our smiling Prof. That’s the price we pay he tells us. . . .