Most read stories

Nearsighted Singers, Your Time Has Come

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An old man in overalls with rags on his head known locally as Bo Peep made his way up from the black side of town to the white. After listening for a few moments, he shook his head in disgust. “Boy, you can’t play them blues.”

bric a brac road

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bric a brac road

Book of Days

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The arrangements of lights on the cracking towers are a segment of Orion’s belt, the handle of the Big Dipper and a section of Andromeda’s spine.

Rex edits an essay about relationships

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...it's about female needs, Rex.

Beach Scene

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Larry works the concession stand / near the pier.

Tightrope

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It's always dark. You catch me by the wrist just as the ferris wheel starts up again and pull my shoulder out of its socket towards you. I resist, feigning hatred and pain, but I don't feel anything except your hand on my arm hot and scalding lighting my skin, a…

The Sober Boat

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I am my beloved’s Advil and she is my Aleve

The girl laughing in the dictionary.

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Trigger Warning.

Hungry

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Why do people kill themselves with food? It’s obvious, I suppose. They’re hungry.

Guinness for Iron

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My sister / craves raisons

The Ex Flies

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"My ex Maxine claimed red wine was the healthy alcohol choice. When we were married and I still had money she drank the expensive stuff, as if drinking Chateau Montrose 2005 instead of two buck chuck made her any less of a wino. She would have been better

Day 1 of Composing the Second Novel

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The Perfect Note

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Everything needs context, otherwise reality would be nothing more than stardust with a spark.

The Devil's Pass

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“Devil’s Pass.” It had the highest rate of vehicle fatalities per year in the entire State of Colorado. Everyone in my state drove like a bunch of stupid rejects, so I asked the guy just how many? He replied, “Four thousand for the entire state!...Nin

~switches and shade~

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  mis-placed       the change           she goes looking for.        her folks        missed another hour...          her worth-while spent wasting        the voice wouldn’t leave the leaves alone.

You Can Keep the Keys: Song

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Here’s the keys to the house Here’s the keys to the car I’m going out and I don’t care I’m going out to buy a cigar Don’t bother locking up after I leave I’m not coming back anymore I’m going to drink whiskey out of a jar Go out and buy

Betrayal

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Betrayal of course is the great human crime. As I found out when . . . .

Radical Middle-Aged Cake Acceptance

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Cake is not the enemy.

Scooping the Fat of Time

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I lift up my sweatshirt and reach with a full fist into my belly button. This is where the fat comes out.

White

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This is what it is to feel yourself forget.

Spittoon (w.c.55)

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“I’m pregnant,” he says...

Walking to Gibraltar, Chapter 13: In Which Dr. Cowboy Rides Again

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Frank sat next to her on the gurney and squeezed her hand. "You're going to be okay, Astrid. You're going to wake and it's going to be over and you're going to be okay." "You don't know that," she said.

Context and Confessional Poetry

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I like babies and little kids, more than some people but goddamn, children's laughter out of nowhere (in the night, when you're not expecting it) is creepy. I don't like slugs smeared like nightmare goo on my summer-bare feet, I could do without them in …

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 54

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Frank shouldered his backpack, grabbed the leather satchel packed with his brushes, palette knives, pens, and pencils, and exited the vaporetto at the Rialto Bridge.

Hardware Store Tour

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The Plaza had a chess-board floor, green wood booths, and the lights stayed up. I might be combining a memory of Fitzie's in Binghamton. The Plaza felt like a preppy soda fountain with beer.

Sickness

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She wasn't even trying to live.

A Terse Invocation of Cuttlefish

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Once the limits of human commitment to logic are conceded, cuttlefish may in fact be deemed superior logicians to all other aspirants.

Cifesboren

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He nodded six times, and waged his stubby fingers repeatedly, forgetting she was simply two wags of the forefinger and a thin waif of girl came running over.

Tax Tips From Tila Tequila, Professional Bisexual

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“We’re never going to get off the treadmill of paying ever-higher taxes," I said, "unless we get some creative suggestions from a professional bisexual tax advisor.”

Blemish in the Blood

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Warning: some of this is true, some of this is not.