Most read stories

The Dances

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

Pet Sitter

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We didn't know him from Adam...

Father Dunne's School for Wayward Boys #1

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A young girl wavering between celibacy and punk mother-lust despair came to visit us each night

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 22

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Elaine and Francesco exited the taxi in front of Elaine Aster Gallery.

Death of an Eikaiwa

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When I rolled him under the bed, I thought I would sweep him out later with arms curled up like legs beneath the shells of cicadas I used to gather from the laundry porch and set on the kitchen counter to scare my roommates. At least, I did that until…

i dream

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i dream a thousand interconnected pictures. i dream the future. i dream we are together. i dream i love you. i dream i am forgiven. i dream you care. i dream nice dreams. i go to the bank. i deposit my check. i pay the rent. i pet the cat. i…

Jury Duty in the West

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My wife says you can tell the crooks from the cops from the cowboys at the taco truck across the street.

October Days

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The first days of October are ordinary in the way that milk just hours away from spoiling is ordinary milk. You can baptise your cornflakes with it, but part of you knows the whole thing is just shy of almost right.

Independent Assiduity, part one

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This is me pitching a recently completed screenplay to a film producer at lunch the other day:

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 60

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That is a pretty damning statement.

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…

Tides

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Tides

The Difference Between Men and Women

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When sixth-grade science teacher Pat Farrell assigns an earth-science lab on measuring crystals, the girls collect their materials, read the directions and follow the sequence from beginning to end. The first thing boys do is ask, “Can we eat this?"

Happy Is a Poem

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no need to write it if you/ live it, conscious of the light, the/ shape, the sound, the taste, and shadow.

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. . . .

You Can't Always Get What You Want

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I was tired and lonesome when I checked into another insufferable, shop-worn Holiday Inn. It was the only motel around with the internet — dial up only — in that little jerkwater town, Notmuch, Alabama. It was too late for a nap, so I jumped in the shower,…

Rain Song

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Feelin’, feelin’ good, down-fallin’ down/rain, rain, rain came today,/wet alfresco alchemy

Erasure

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All else is unmoved/ and relentless in its indifference.

heart-shaped stones

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heart-shaped stones love, devotion no way

Haiku for Jogging

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Haiku for Jogging

City

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

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.

Catalog of Backgrounds

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nowhere after nowhere

As If Not Breathing Could Save him

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She turned him down again. Said it was her insomnia. She was so tired, she said, she had to work in the morning, and why couldn't he understand that? She rolled over facing away from him. He sat up in bed, thinking. When was the last time? Three months ago? Four? He…

Cocoa Instead

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While waiting for the water to boil she formulated an excuse that the Saitos would be forced to accept as to why she must drop Isuko as a student. Suddenly the kettle sung out like a soprano, desperate to be silenced.

Non-Self: Light, Dark

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You gather their faces in the palms of your hands and their purple eyes blink, blink, unseeing.

Scars

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Who hasn't got a scar...some flesh wound of memory.

An Articulation of Blades

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The new king hunted often. We heard her whirring above, the terrible whirring a forest of—, and she drifted over our city half dangling from the chopper, rifle barrel glinting.

Resolution

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Too often, Calvin's willful head finds its way into his hands.

Song of Unself

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nothing suffices as harbor / but a permit to claw at every yawing chasm