Most read stories

The Night Before the Last Day of Summer

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Tonight is our last night to dream.

Where Is Daddy?

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He checks the bedrooms first, then the hallway, followed by the living room and the bathrooms. When he can't find you he takes to calling out, daddy, I'm sure the neighbors hear.

NYQUIL DREAMS

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The capsules tumble around, one of them plinking against the crown in my upper-right jaw. I hate the crown… a mute reminder of the first time Brad hit me. Swallowing the capsules, my tongue probes the left side of my mouth, finding the other two crowns…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 60

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That is a pretty damning statement.

A Dutiful Daughter

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The first indication I had of what I look like came when a man put me back on the rack, remarking that I was too pink. Over the weeks that followed, I gained a few more ideas about my appearance from the comments of people in the shop. My photographic side had been…

Youth

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I'm ten.

Ukai

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If it weren't for the different lengths of dock, I would think the river just goes past me. Maybe it does, and the banks move too. Orderly where the clouds are random. I have cormorants, passengers, and salmon. They catch each other. They make my crew money. When did my…

Monday

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The door shuts slowly to something that’s allegedly mine and it sits there and waits until I come home just like you.

Hoss Men (divided)

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Agents I have little idea. Woiwode partly supported his family in the 60s by publishing in The NYer (his friends were De Niro and Barthelme) so perhaps there was little trouble in his finding one. E.W. met his at a bar. He publishes in Paris and Texas.

Thoughts Recorded By My Wife and Sister Three Days After I Emerged From a Coma (Loaded on Dilaudid)

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Bake sweet rolls and make love to your new wife, fall asleep for three years and grow a beard.

Sidewalk Cafe at Night: van Gogh

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while the fat stars stand out in the cobalt night.

Haiku For Birthdays

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Facebook

The Shredded Carcass of a Small, Helpless Animal

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It gets eaten.

Scene of Mostly Unwilling Players

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Chewing on peppered peanuts, thin flakes scattered carelessly around his squat, Father unfurls his turban and mops his clammy pate with an open palm.

Transgression

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I look as sympathetic as I can, under the circumstance, which is entirely unsympathetic.

Story Story

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It was one of those sweltering afternoons that San Diego endures only several times a summer. I'm riding on El Cajon Boulevard, with my friend John in his old Chevy pickup. John is a lifelong San Diego resident and fanatical Charger backer. He's talking up some…

To Whom It May Concern:

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Now, we can argue about how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, but there is no doubt that it takes eight spritzes of Scrubbing Bubbles bathroom cleaner, three spritzes of Lime-Away, and then a 30 second spray of Oust to incapacitat

That Magical Hour

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Every night she waited for that magical hour when her breath was quick and her heart was loud rushing in her ears 8:04 or sometime 8:20 either way she knew the voice she would hear of her beloved was coming any minute now and so she was…

“Honestly, I’m Not a Fan of Your Poetry”

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I will admit it. // I cannot write poetry / to save my life—

Unsent

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this is where we end -- the exorbitant eye of forgotten days.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 43

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—Have you ever fired a gun?

Next Time, Academics

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I suggested when we passed the flesh shack that we turn around and that I go in and say to the sex workers that the Russians are fetching $3.5K per hour in Manhattan and it's private, unlike there at that road-side shack.

Intro to Philosophy

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We now live in post-Postmodern Absurdist fear of course, says our smiling Prof. That’s the price we pay he tells us. . . .

She mentioned prayer in the Øilslick.xxx ZipperPoems

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We transplant helix° splices and shoot back to meet our former selves, zip the scrolls, and save the world. Then you said spin so I twisted my jumper over and over in endless folds like lips, like vaginas, like seacreatures

Heaven On the Floor

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In the blur she met Joseph. Joseph was the priest who lived in the attic of the church. She met him after she grew boobs and thighs that moved like dragonflies soaring above ponds.

9/11 Memories

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She was just a small dog with a big heart.

the honey ant of Kaapa Tjampitjimpa

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1I'VE BEEN looking though books of paintings and I've been thinking …

Love

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I said: “Doesn’t he understand? People like me, geniuses—great, mad geniuses—are prone to failures because we do not accept the common notions of society? Doesn’t he understand? I’m not like the others.”

Full of Mad Hope

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full of mad hope / we dash into the street / leap into the fray / and enter splendiferous lists

The man-faced boy

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And so the man-faced boy grew alone, knowing little of kindness and love. As he grew, he explored the limits of his cold world; crawling in dusty nappies, toddling in hand-me-down rags, at last walking on worn sandals, haunting the edges of human life loo