Most read stories

Lips that Touch Liquor: The Gin Buck

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It was twilight, and the sky was getting darker even as the lights of civilization were becoming more noticeable in the gloom. The daytime city, with its grit and dust and texture, was disappearing. Soon there would only be electric light and neon and the

Things I Should Have Done - #4

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I should have created a first-date questionnaire heartaches ago.

What Our Fathers Knew

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The clickity-click of poker chips spills out to the six of us waiting for a table. We're old college buddies, drunk since one this afternoon, sporting the ball caps our wives never let us wear. We brag. About our poker wins, how easy it is to read each other, how we can…

Cactus Subconscious

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The voice in the sand: "If it has soul you must funk it."

The Hamster Eulogies

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But not once did we mention heaven. The next day we bought another one.

Float to Water

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I don’t remember the name of the boy in high school or if I cried at his funeral

Losing Found Things

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Last-minute women notice me and latch on, converging in narcotized spirals, old sunflowers twisting towards a fake light. Ugly, used up people, turning like dirty snow, terrified of facing the sunlight alone, of the hour long drunken drive home.

Life of the Mind

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Days went by as I stood in the woods waiting for a tree to fall, and when none did, I determined the universe is cold and indifferent and that man’s only hope is to buy wood chippers.

More About Nils Whose Real Name is Georges

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I think he viewed Communion as an act of hygiene that allowed him to go on being fiery and self-determined.

White

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“White,” he says. -- “Black,” I answer.

Traveling North

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TRAVELING NORTH Though you are dead now. Though I walk covered in dust through this strip mall in Iowa. I remember the collection of tendencies that led me here. The flat landscape. The blazing heat of cornfields. The landscape and body are one…

tea

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what a mess

"Oh, what's this?" she

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"So, like the Goldilocks thing…"

The Cuckold

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his wife had made love to another man, out of spite or love or to wake him from his conventional slumber, we never learned. We were there as a foil, a first step towards reconciliation, unction.

Marie Antoinette's Angel Food Cake Recipe

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honey/she said/with a wink/and a twinkle

Arcana Magi - c.5: Will

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She stood there with ladylike maturity; her eyes were frightening with an unforgiving look, visible in her tears that pierced the very core of Oryn’s heart.

The Elvis Latte

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Elvis at a Starbucks. Some graphic words.

The Last Words of a Genius

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The crowd gathered around the dying man's bed, waiting for his last words. He was a genius. The most prolific writer and philosopher to ever live. He wiped his ass with the words of Shakespeare. The thoughts of Plato, Socrates, Descartes, and Nietzsche w

Hitler's Angel (A Meta Christmas Carol)

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Christmas is here and there's work to do.

Some Nature Haiku

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The proud, burly tree / Rests on the now crashed TV / Thanks a lot, nature

55 Words #1

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I would roll my eyes, give one word replies or a smiley face.

SIX POLITICALLY INCORRECT SONG LYRICS

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I hope I don’t have aches and pains in heaven Cause here on Earth I ache in all my parts These old bones don’t have the spring they used to I sure hope heaven has electric shopping carts

Miss

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On Saturday mornings, by noon, the delivery car comes from Boston and unloads fresh bread and sandwiches, pork ribs and ground pork stuffed inside of breads and buns and banana leaves, bean shakes, and sticky rice desserts.

The Right Thing

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His feet are the size of thumbs, the segments of his toes no larger than grains of rice.

The Magical Thinking of Birds

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Her eyes grew wide, moist, catching the low light, holding onto it as if an imprisoned lover. "So you come home." I smiled. Was she playing a game?

The Accordion

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If I play my accordion too loudly while you're painting, you complain. You stamp about in your room under mine. You fetch the broom from the closet and use it to thump vehemently on the ceiling. I feel the vibrations through my feet.

There Is Nothing Left To Do But Care

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He was the kind of cat who began lifting weights in the fourth grade.

Lang's Dragon

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Fritz Lang. Even before I ever met the miserable son of a bitch, with his monocle and superior airs, I hated him. In person, he was an insufferable asshole.

Dog Park

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We met an old friend and his old dog. We went off leash on the lush Buffalo grass. He and I—this old friend, I mean—talked mostly of divorce, something we shared between us.

Santa’s stuck

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The lard-arsed ol’bastard struggling soot-faced and yelling. . . .