Most read stories

Happy Birthday!

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[WARNING: DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 'R XMAS!]

Bike Gangs Show Sensitive Side With "Baiku"

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Some guys ride hills up and down, Then stop to terrorize small towns.

Noodle

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Our painter man was killed by a bunch of snotty kids who were making fun of him. A gun went off. What is a noodle to do? He wasn't sitting alone in his world, anymore. Where was his famous straw hat? His trusty pipe? He desperately needed to smoke…

My Father Teaches Me To Drink Straight Shots

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of Jim Beam when I was maybe fifteen. Or anyway old enough to admire the lesson.

Darryl, The Biography

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"I was born very far from where I'm supposed to be. And so I'm on my way home."--Bob Dylan I don't owe you anything. If I'm a recluse what does it have to do with you? I have the right to be poor. Some things cannot be explained away by letters that…

whistle stop

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good bye suckers

Rex edits an essay about relationships

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

Secret Lives of Cell Phones

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...collapse of the human world. Go, cell phones!

Sister Rosetta

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I left the train, still going nowhere, but in a hurry. Still a boy, but trapped in a suit.

77 Words Sparked by Insomnia

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Mice dreams are a reality ...

Assiduity Sixteen

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I'm fascinated by Don's evolution . . .

All the Young Angel Heads

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I don't think you understand. A sad boy doesn't just die inside, slowly, he becomes withdrawn from certain types of lovely youthful reasoning out loud, accustomed to feeling what is expected, graded, just to be allowed to survive another…

Haying

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It is not unusual for farmers to see the future before it’s begun—but I am not speaking here only of the need to hope but more. . . .

Waking Up After a Nap During Election Day

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He is an exercise in humility:What I cannot have or be. The chances of our meetingand his perfection are darkly astronomical. There are plenty of otherswhose riches I cannot have,why envy him?We are similar in spritbut have different fortunes.It is unfair and…

Muffled

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A poem not about fog written in fog with an erasable pen.

The Breakup -- I was Always Yours, You Were Never Mine

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One cold winter's day she met what she thought was the love of her life. He had everything going for him but his age. You see the sweet young thing was a lot younger than her. One might say that she had lived many lives before he had been born.

The Unbearable Thickness of Meat Loaf

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This morning I found A big black crow Working over a flattened Squirrel in the middle Of the road First day of winter Longest night Shortest day No problem The rest of the year Should be a breeze

Red Sky at Night

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Floating in liquor only to drown the next morning.

Game Night

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Randy stood in the alley behind Krasnowski Construction with a loaded gun shoved down the front of his pants. His friend Todd was inside, unloading the safe. And when Todd walked out the door, Randy was going to shoot him in the face.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 18

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She was dressed to seduce one man: Francesco Martinelli.

Broken Vase

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Once was when we were in Vegas on layover from L.A., I told her I thought we should go to the Elvis Chapel and get remarried.

Cry Baby Cry

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The baby will not stop crying. He’s been crying for three hours straight. I’m the worst mother ever. What kind of mother can’t soothe her own baby? The bad kind.

In an authentic Irish pub in Las Vegas

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In an authentic Irish pub in Las Vegas where over much crowd noise the three of us are discussing Yeats, Joyce and Lady Gregory. We’re in an Irish pub after all, plus the fact we’re literature profs attending a Vegas academic conference.

Imparting Shots

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He knows why I’m here, so he stalls, talking about the coffee, about how it’s a new dark blend from a little shop in The Village, about how he loves the flavor, so rich, but just because a coffee is dark doesn’t mean it’s stronger, that, in fact, it’s the

Urgent Care

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When Carol complained about a pain in her back, Frank didn't think much about it. Her back—especially her shoulders—hurt most of the time he'd known her, almost fifteen years, from sitting in front of a computer all day. It was an old story. “But …

Eskimo Days

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We cook over the fireplace on these days, blacken marshmallows on straightened hangers, like Eskimos, dogs around a campfire.

Missing the Bus

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Something about her eyes...

Beatles On Broadway

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-Another time maybe?

Nathaniel

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sometimes i have to be in the other room just so i can breathe easy away from you.

Sickness

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She wasn't even trying to live.