Most read stories

The Dog

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The dog is reading. This morning, as every morning, the book is open in front of him. Well before his master's rise, he had already read the moon then dawn and the clouds. Now the slippers, these that walk here and there. Followed by coffee and the pages that turn. A little…

Hammered then hungover

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When she got back to Claire's, she was hammered and she had no idea what time it was, what day, or, frankly, what planet. It was the first time she'd been that drunk in years. The last time she could remember getting even close to that wasted was at a Christmas party right…

Legs Unwilling

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Summer bakes the metal playground slide to ripples. Still, kids line up. Sadists, all of them. Lucky enough to choose pain. Max feels it every breath, unwanted.

To All the Sisters on My iPod

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It was a wake-up call. A sign that I needed to stop and ask if I was making wise and sensible life choices. My iPod was full.

Hotel Mechanics

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He switches to quantum mechanics and starts tinkering with his sleeve memorizing a theorem he'd figure out if he had the time for a deep breath, he takes a deep breath.

Melanie

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But now she was no longer the little girl.

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…

walk off the animal

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I don’t know how some can do it. Can they just walk off the animal in the yard or something, and forget about love altogether? Some have that built-in coldness of the soul, I guess. I don’t get it. The blood does not seem to shake their hearts. Are th

The Medicine

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It wasn't pain but half of it, so half of it I mended

It's Always the Quiet Ones

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I know this much: right now I’m over a thousand miles from my brother. I’ve been watching the odometers, adding it all up.

early spring

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the late snow, though not welcomed...

The wooden man: 12 fragments for Easter

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The wooden man came to her in a cloud in a vision in a dream in a story. When he spoke, his tongue clacked against his teeth.——As soon as she woke up, she knew the wooden man was in her belly. She felt heavy with him, fatigued. All she wanted to eat was…

Exile

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Dandelions wither as I approach and the grass dies under my feet.

Taikutsuna, Abburido, Boring

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A Beatles haircut and loose Khaki painters overalls rendered the child sexless. He or she walked over to Hugh’s side and standing tiptoe peered into the casket. She, for Hugh had determined it was a girl, stroked the silk lining.

There's A Place I Know

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“Reminds me of my safari in Africa. Somebody forgot the corkscrew and for several days we had to live on nothing but food and water."- W.C. Fields Around the next corner is a dark green door a dark…

The Boyfriend

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As a boyfriend, he knows that such A.D.D. insensitivity could be considered a major liability in the eyes of most girlfriends, including his.

The Arrow

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"Give it to me I said, you dip! Fork it over!"

Sorry Now

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You’ll say you should have known. You’ll blame my music.

Solitary Lunatics Up On The Roof

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Up top, the sky is like a fist fight- fat lip purple and bitchslap pinks get wilder as the tabs kick in. Those hovering lights are aliens! we assert with insistent like-mindedness from where we sit directly beneath the airport flight path.

Girl in 'Nam (Part 1)

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Licking my wounds. That's what my mother calls it. I'm not really sure what that means or if it's true. Sure, losing your boyfriend, apartment and job in a matter of months can drive someone to do something impulsive. Something crazy. But I've always b

Moi et Stendhal's Lust for Women's Eyebrows

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“Oh yeah?" I said to Stendhal. "I found six references to women's eyebrows in Travels in the South of France. That's all you think about!”

Friday Briefings

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They could occupy the space// left by creatures larger and more/ evolved.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 60

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That is a pretty damning statement.

Tides

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Tides

Storyboard

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For a time he documented his facial expressions.

Muffled

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

The Essence Of Story

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We all tell them/even when our mothers warned us only the Devil/tells stories

The Poem Sits at Home and Envies as It Celebrates Music

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Translation’s not required—music/ sings itself complete and comprehensible

The Birth Canal Was Easy

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It was time.

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.6 - c.3

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Mother’s eyes stared outward in a trance, on her throne, visualizing the world Azure made. Though it was right before her, she could not reach it.