Most read stories

Jolly Old Nick (Black As Hell)

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A tanka poem about Jolly Old Nick being black as hell.

Bad Monkey

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The hotel sits on the highest point in Shimla: a place of cedar-scented air, an aggressive monkey population, and summer houses left by the British Raj.

The Tongues of Spring

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Another new spring and the leaves

Others - An Long Island Fairytale

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Welcome to OTHERS. A place where I hope you will experience the enchantment of a time and place like no other MATTITUCK 1971 LIKE YOU NEVER KNEW IT

the plunge

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Bottom's up, mon cherie. On land, I'll grab mine with two hands. But in water, boy, I'm weightless and turning, a regular fish -- afloat, flopping, deboned.

Fray

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Someone set a pig aflame.

The Gentleman on the Train

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The gentleman is discreet, but his eyes wander from his paper at intervals as we travel together from London to Manchester. We happen to be on the same train and he happens to be sitting opposite me. I happen to be a size 34C.

A Good Sized Puddle Suits the Fish Between My Ears

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Tell me everything about yourself, if I could care, I can pretend, let me pretend.

whistle stop

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good bye suckers

Customer Service Circa 2017

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Quantum transport rearranges grandma.

Henry Ground

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Henry Ground was a healthy and well adjusted English man who excelled at chess and folk dancing. One day, for no apparent reason, he decided to fill his guinea pig with helium. He carried the animal under the light of the stars into the shed at the bottom of his garden.…

Move Along

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W here do you think you're going what'll you think you'll do running down this highway that you never even knew

The Street to Here

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poem

Library

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Let's start from the beginning. Your mother's face in the phone. Your parted lips. Your surprised tongue. Hands deep in the folds of your skirt. The poet filling your pockets with blue and orange. The poet filling your notebooks with slowly drifting fields and gramophones…

#5

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and the other guy goes

He Doesn't Poke Her Any More

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It was over.

What I'd Have to Call My 'Meatsack Family'

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This story is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and unintentional and should not be inferred. (Really!)

Someplace Else

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Flish flash, flish flash, flicker of triangle lights. As he deparks, I say, “See that girl?” She crosses at the stop sign with blond hair flip, flash of white teeth: rips cookie from wrapper, drops wrapper on ground. “I bought her a…

The Real Story Behind The Lipstick On Obama's Shirt

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The lipstick on your collar walked up the steps and through the front door, without a key. Her smile was hypnotically red and bountiful. The guards standing around didn't dare frisk her for weapons, her lips were weapon enough.

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…

Dial Tone

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I am asking for something as simple as water. In an oak tree, weeping, a child climbed too high. Tears that the barkstain will never wash clear. O love. We ask far too much when we fall. In a momentary lapsus, the words…

The Weather in Paradise

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I immediately felt anxious guilt, being the one responsible for opening the way for infection.

A Novel Begins...

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She was washing the dishes in the sink, (you're not going to start with a pronoun, are you? Give her a name, for God's sake!) Kate was washing dishes in the sink, (where the hell else is she going to wash dishes? In a creek?) Kate was washing dishes (was…

Call Me

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I'm living where I've always lived, in Georgia.

masters of their trade

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vampires seem not to be victims of drought . . .

Wintering

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Winter makes me reconsider.

You're All Knuckles

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Her eyeballs are made of fur, like plush little bumblebees at home in her sockets.

One Black Wheel

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"..squeezing her eyes and mouth tightly."

Texas Was Better

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The buds were red--it seemed they were dying at the beginning. I had no idea what fall would be--bright fish composing on Beethoven Street.

City

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Lorelei was bombarded constantly with it. She began to hate the city...