Most read stories

A Funeral for Eddie Moon

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‘It's perfect,' said Maggie as she lay in the casket. Harold Barnes offered his hand. ‘It's a shame he never got to see it,' Maggie continued as she climbed free of the coffin.

Road Work '92

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This is how she does it: Forward………… ...Reverse..........…….....Forward..........……...Reverse

Transcription of Audio: Meeting with Miss Jewel Eppinette

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No one has touched me for a long, long time and I believe that is why I am dying. This is a notion that is new to me but it has persisted over the last few weeks and I believe I finally have apprehended the truth. There was a time, I remember all too well,…

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 Poem Sits at Home and Envies as It Celebrates Music

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

ANGER

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You gave me everything, delivered with a hungry mouth. Tease.All taken away, erasedby a few words.Lips that poured forth and lips that took insharp, electric pleasures.Now withdrawn, thin, petulant.Not satisfied,you crushed my sanctuary.with so…

Catching Mitt For Sadness

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He stops smiling and only says he loves me when prompted, as if asking me to pass the salt for his inner peace as it tastes too bland.

Piggy Bank

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we had a million pennies

The Medicine

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

Snow

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She talks about window treatments, how the place is maybe too much for one. Wants me to know she’s not much of a cook, and wants me to smell what’s in her oven and compliment her cooking anyway.

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

Man and Dirt

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Wherever you decide to grow Please remember to ask the dirt ‘Am I still dust’

"What It Means to Exodus" Or, "Brrrraaaawww"

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"I have consulted the Internet," the man remarks, squatting low, sorting through a mountain of tablets. He snags two and stands slowly, confidently, and I realize suddenly that he is Moses. Two iPads, cradled surely in each wrist, glow with lists.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 60

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That is a pretty damning statement.

The Awakening

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Aura arrives with the incense and her mysteries. Her scent of wet earth, and crushed flowers, a touch of Jasmine and Frankincense. Her dark hands passing over my body, her warmth. A whisper. A prayer.

Study in Contrast

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But tonight while your finger glides across the glossy pages of Popular Science I hold a séance for the Holy Spirit in utter seriousness among the book clutter and crumpled manifestos in the basement

Horace

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The young boy sat on the swing, hearing sirens in the distance. The tops of his shoes were dirty. His fingers as well, where he drew stick figures of people in the dirt. His…

ALL THE REPORTERS WANT WAR

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The countdown is on and daily the propaganda gets more and more aggravating It appears at times that the news media dictate and orchestrate more that just report on events of diplomatic shock. A huge effort has gone in to covering this coming war and it…

Tides

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Tides

Monday Lunch

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Earlier that morning a tree in the yard had filled with starlings, and on the way home after lunch, the sky held planes that looked like starlings, floating together.

Regret

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Regret takes the shape of little clouds ...

Assiduity Eight

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no snippet tasting

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

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.

Suede Denim

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Rogue sits bedside in Jello Biafra’s hospital room.

Sorry Now

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

Bedtime Stories

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Even before I tap on the door I know I am being watched with one eye. My footsteps have surely given me away. A swift tug on it reveals her to me—half of her, that is, and I slink past the threshold, to her. From her eyes I see that she has…

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

Assiduity Fourteen

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Don reports everything to Uzma and Rasheed, I'm aware of that. It doesn't bother me. I'm not hiding anything from them or anyone else.