Most read stories

Bloody Knuckles

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My tongue kept me from fitting in with the latinos. I understood little Spanish and spoke even less. No one really believed I was Mexican, and they kept me at a distance. Or maybe I kept them at a distance. Living with

As Poetry Month Ends, Prosaic Types Get Their Turn

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“I’m going,” O’Bannon-Krim says with exasperation as she throws trinkets such as Dylan Thomas beer coozies and Edna St. Vincent Millay hair scrunchies into a cardboard box.

Göttwigg’s Fandango

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It is not unusual to see Göttwigg with his shirt on inside out.

Cougar

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What follows is one of those moments, though to some people, it would seem a fantasy, perhaps a "Wizard of Oz" era tale.

Looking at the Light of the Moon on the Sea

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It was hard, in the crowded vacation house, to make love as they would have alone.

Assiduity Five

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. . . my situation.

Bring on the Drones!

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Never mind that they cost millions per year just to amuse the monkey bone in us all or that they spew pollution or that their only real purpose is murder. They are justified by skill and thrill.

A Matter of the Heart

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Charlie's recurring fantasy emerged from its hiding spot as he finished his fourth Old Fashioned. He'd be on his back; she'd be astride him. A strong, assertive young woman with her hands planted on his chest and her hair falling forward over her face.

Towards the End of Memory

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This will be the century of infinite sadness,/ sadder even than the Twentieth/ with its expansive catalog of horrors.

I'll be Home for Christmas

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She hasn't called me in days. Before calling her, I search my memory for something romantic to say. Shakespeare's Sonnet 73 says exactly what I'm thinking. But she doesn't need to hear it. She already knows, as all human efforts come to an end, my core energies are tapering…

Saga For The Eyes

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Stars fat as the stars that Van Gogh painted on his easel in Arles, a ring of candles burning on the brim of his hat. Stars that fill the night with delirium.

Sacrifice on Maple Drive

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Sacrificial vic bleeds out . . .

SYCAMORE STREET MORNING

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"S- E- X -- ever heard of it?"

Burger King Blues

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Read signs sometimes and you just might get where you're trying to go. When Eddie suggested they stop for a Whopper, Dennis said no. "Fuck Burger King, man. Let's get that Wendy's up there." They got…

My Date with Edgar Allen Poe

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Now, if someone is tellin' you that she had a date with Edgar Allen Poe, you might be tempted to say, "Hey, sister, what kind of drugs you be doin' for the last two days?" But I swear on my Aunt Boo's chastity belt that's what went down and with my…

Caucasus

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On shingle of seashells & Bullet shells, Ghosts drift along the shore Of the Black Sea.

Whirl

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Wanna,wanna, whoop de loop. Hold my baby, kiss my mom, dance the way I used to do. Desktops, blacktops, cut and paste, speed down hills, learn the rules, Sister Saint Marion, married to Christ. Sixteen, life-green, pink tights, Swan Lake, an…

A Story

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The next moment is a convergence made from a single repeating sequence that disappears behind the voice that tells of it.

The Element of Ritual

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Nurse Smithers straightened Dr. Baumgartner’s feathered head dress. it had slipped down below the caduceus so carefully painted on his forehead by the medical ritual staff.

A Change in Plan

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Times were tough back then. Just a few jobs. This was in the late thirties. It's the story of how Albert hooked up with Iris. Their unlikely meeting took place when they met out on the Highway 61 right-of-way just outside of Natchez, Mississippi, each trying to hitch…

The Human Resource

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I am a human resource, batteries not included

If You Want To Work At Club Arseni

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I hev my girls shave.

Ode to Flannery O'Connor

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Gert sat in the car and wiped at the inside of the window while the defroster blasted at full strength. The shards and slivers of ice that networked across the windshield were just thick enough to hinder visibility. Bane wrenched the door open and shoved

Virgin

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Steven was a hollow tree of a man — outwardly normal for a tired fortysomething, but empty inside. He lived alone in an old farmhouse that reeked of decomposition and Lysol, the previous tenant having left a dozen skinned raccoon carcasses in the attic.

A Little Idea

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I have reasons to believe she’s been stealing.“ “Stealing what?” “Steaks.” “Steaks?”

D.H. Lawrence Ghazal

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How many shadows in your soul? Close your eyes, my love, let me / make you blind as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

Something for Seniors

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For Sale: Clean Depends, Never Worn

Unkilled Jeff

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"Oh — what is this 'work' thing the philosophers speak of" sort of thing.

Real Love, Real

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For the first time in her life She felt she understood The smell of a man. The smell of white tulips, The taste of a persimmon In her mouth. She remembered how married she felt To him, in that moment. How close To the earth, and ancien

Still

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Later