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Knott Travel

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The next post card was of gondolas in Venice. “Have never not enjoyed ourselves less,” wrote Sylvia. “Sylvia can be hard to please,” said Angelynn. “Those boats could use a coat of paint,” I said.

The Officer Gets Breakfast

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The officer’s eggs and bacon rested on the asphalt amid shattered ceramic and boot heels.

The One-Dollar Minister

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The man could be a total brute, though the truth was he had the softest of hearts too. A real gentle giant. But get him going on a drunk jag with too much ouzo in his system, and look out.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 17

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Friday night in Little Italy is a big night.

How to Get Fans For Your Band (or book, start-up, app, whatever)

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You’re finally in a band that can get through a rehearsal without someone strangling someone with an amp cord over creative differences. No one’s in jail, rehab, or MIA from a multi-day booze binge. The group has laid down a few quality tracks that don’t

Grandma's Fingers

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her hands twined up, as carved from stone, each to fit the other.

this isn't what i was trying to write, you ass

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sometimes it's hard/ to leave the house in the morning/ when bed is so comfortable/ and you're so far away.

A modicum of madness

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for the moment/ you think you know what you’re/ doing and do it.

Paradise

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From the rumple of pre-dawn Queens, sure South on 95, to almost Savannah by dark; still cold, but we’re full of what’s coming:

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 43

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—Have you ever fired a gun?

The Blush of Rose

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Rose was the easiest lay in the Fletcher Memorial Home For The Aged.

before Creation

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Before Genesis, digesting the primordial soup.

Myra's Lighthouse

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I’ve been mentally cataloging all the various ways Myra has fucked me up. I know this is a dangerous game, strapped to our seats inches apart and hurling down the road at 70 mph, but I can’t help fiddling with the fuse.

Phyllis Shapely

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In December of 2003, Daniel Arredondo succumbed to his years long battle with colon cancer. If the name is unfamiliar, you're not alone. He did not answer to the name Daniel Arredondo. For most of his life, from seventeen years old to the end, in fact, he went by the name…

Sleeping Apes and Washing Dishes: What I Learned From Magazines This Week

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Eat blueberries every day and you'll live to be a 92 year old mogul. Really.

On Unpredictability

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All that have changed in me, I give to you now.

The Sound Invisible

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“Behold!” cried the Lord, on a late September morning,

Genesters

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There once was a lake skipping stone and it skipped, five times, the end... Ceiling fluorescents brilliant in the white space opened to the exterior of the Hog n' Bluster hero shop through the narrow glass front and shown out to the empty brick paved commons of…

Forever and a Day

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Just an abnormal visit to the post office.

But Wait, There's More

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A rock group named Stuck Gas Pedal. Another named Tweezer. A group of young punk-rockers wearing neckerchiefs named Mein Kampfire. But wait, there’s more. A song called “We Were Being Facetious,” co-written by them all. Lost Flyswatter. That

Dear A. Lien (Letter Two)

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You’ve got Wikipedia. Look them up: vagina and penis. What Wikipedia will not tell you, however, is the thousands of years of human anguish, and rapture, wrapped up in those two organs.

Things of Beauty

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The cover features Lincoln as a woman. Lincoln as a woman is not a thing of beauty.

Lose the Baggage

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I could be dead wrong.

Existential Dioramas

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and, under foot,// dark caves waiting/ with their unseen pigments/ adorning forgotten walls.

Annals of the Naked Rowdies #3

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It was a dire and dun-colored year when groupies wept and autograph seekers put down their pens.

The Ridgeline: Day 1

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The first burned slowly in the distance. I built a small fire to keep warm. Snow covered the area as far as the eye could see. The sun burned bright in the sky above and the mountains disappeared onto the horizon. My gear had some wear and tear from t

Eighth Wonder of Mississippi?

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Lula’s fried chicken should be served on the hem of Jesus’s robe rather than out of a styrofoam box. It’s so good that I kept glancing at the little tray on the steam table, hoping to be hungry again, ready to yank pieces out of the grasp of strangers, to

Mississippi Jesus

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"How the fucks he drivin' like that?"

The Voice of My Body

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It's saying, "It feels as if you've given me your old, your tired and your poor. I feel much older than the years you've logged."

Father Dunne's School for Wayward Boys #5

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The big wigs call it aiding and abetting. I became an left-handed accountant with a tendency to fudge numbers for the damned.