Most read stories

Lost Splendors

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“I have a theory,” she said on their first date, which was at an Indian restaurant where the music was a lovely singsong but the chef seemed enraged as he clapped a ball of dough between his hands, then threw it into the flames. And her date, whom she…

The Street Singer

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The Street singer gathers up his coins and counts to a hundred before The last string stops vibrating

Lavender, a Liberal

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Lavender, a Liberal Betty, batty from hormones, in a fanciful fit, named her daughter Lavender. Husband Don winced. Brothers Donald, John, Billy, and Tom were puzzled and pleased by this sister, this girl, who was a little bit like them, yet not like them at…

My Hot Rod and the Redhead

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I think the Air Force Colonel must have known, from the flushed looks on our faces, that I had just fucked his daughter in a roadside patch of ragweed on the way to their house somewhere outside Danville. I remember looking back and forth between him and

Wavering Faith

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Grady Quail wondered why God didn't just have another son

The Works

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The woman in green doesn’t want to encounter the meter maid who is actually a man and so waits to one side at the newspaper racks as if purchasing a paper while that person writes the parking ticket (this city needs that money) and drives away in his li

The Dances

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". . those incandescent secrets she would pepper in. The sister who ran away."

Everything the Traffic Will Allow

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there’s more to life than poontang but not when you’re sixteen and your hands are full of heavy breasts

continuously uncomfortable

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I could feel myself slipping back into my old ways again and it always hurt like hell.

An Open Letter For Zombie Rights

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We are what we are, and that is zombies.

Haiku for Jogging

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Haiku for Jogging

Wait

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I'm not dying. What is it called if you think you might have Hypochondria but you really don't? I'm worried that's what I have. Is it cold in here? Or is it me, dying?

~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.

Beer Pong With the Nobel Prize Winners

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Alcohol and American writers have always had a connection–about 70 percent of American winners of the Nobel Prize for Literature could be considered heavy drinkers if not more.

A Letter From Uncle Bernie

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...Truth is, it’s because of fabulously wealthy men and women like myself who long ago sucked all the cream out of the bottle, and now we’re coming back for whatever milk remains.

Spittoon (w.c.55)

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“I’m pregnant,” he says...

ASH WEDNESDAY

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Everybody knew the McDonald’s at the Waterfront was selling theraflu stamp bags, and I guess I’d heard how bad it was for you—they’d had reports of dumbasses ODing on channel 2, 4, and 11—but it was a lot stronger than regular heroin and a lot cheaper...

Frail Flowers, Sitting Monks

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The world is slick as alabaster, taking the guesswork out of the rain. Junction Road moves like thick grease under the tires of my '89 Skyhawk. The old car's making a clicking noise somewhere underneath the high-beam switch and the damn…

Some Pianos

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We bought a grand piano at Steinway Hall after 9/11, chased uptown by the dust of death and awakening from dreams of miniature jumpers stuck in the icing of white wedding cakes

Buy Me Some Peanuts

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The voice on the other end mumbles, not forming words, but I understand: I am to be the starting third baseman for the Detroit Tigers.

Awaiting the End of Time

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The alphabets will disappear.

Speck in the Thrall of Cosmic Forces

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Fear the air and fear the fire./ Fear the land and fear the water./ Creation is out to get you, speck,

benedictus

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he wanders the house/ crying for the hairless tomcat/ (gone for the night/ on an overnight job).

Secret Lives of Cell Phones

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

Keeping watch

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The machines are alive but she is not. The pads keep her face from being irritated but my mind isn't so lucky."Let me GO!" she cries....at least that's what I hear. They are waiting for permission for her to go. Eager hesitation best describes the tense…

Happy Trails

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"But is it politically correct?" he asked. "Oh, yes," said Hank. "It's all the rage."

Thumbing For a Ride

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Here comes my speed dealer he's riding shotgun in the open

The Bird King's Eggs

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1The Bird King's eggs are subatomic particles created serendipitously by a sneeze in a quantum physicist's dream.Occupying a space between existence and nothingness, reason and madness, broccoli and…

Bike Gangs Show Sensitive Side With "Baiku"

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

Chasing the “Z” words

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It ain't the steak, it's the sizzle.