Most read stories

The Crossing

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His left hand is still clutching the blue Bic lighter in his pocket, rubbing it slowly but firmly. Anticipation is building, filling Theodore up like a combustible gas inside of a too-small container.

Woman Things

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...when the doctor scrapes the baby out, he cuts out all the things that make babies, too...

Bus Ride Through SF

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Bud Light, B. O. and Freeloader Heaven, they step onto the back of the bus without a cent We pass by the Karma Wash but no one gets off the bus We pass by the Endless Soup and Salad Kitchen where we witness a crowd swarming over a ch

Revenge poem for Sara, following her disparaging remarks about my unfamiliarity with the literary history of the East Coast

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In distant climes ’cross landlocked plains, where history digs still-shallow roots, From masonry a statue looms And in her arms gay pigeons roost.

Crumpled

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We wanted so much to find ourselves in a beautiful world. It was, and is, but every inviting leaf has got another hidden dangerous precedent that must be surrendered to in order to survive to see another sunset with the ones you actually…

Liked and Similar

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I haven't been here in a while!

Afterglow

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The drone of radio seeps into the car’s back seat… I hear only bits and pieces of information –

Tattooed Thumb

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A tattoo of a river steamboat, one you dreamed up in your sleep and drew yourself is anchored around your nail bed on your thumb. I paint my nails with regatta sails. The toxic fumes sting my nose. You say you're bored and take out a needle filling it with ink. I watch as…

Proverbs of the Converted

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a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single ticket

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 27

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Bounder squirmed out of Francesco’s hands and ran into the kitchen.

Begonia {part eight}

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Like a scroll spinning swiftly before his eyes, he deduced that the tracks around him could have been left by nothing but a dragon. “Father God, protect her,” he said as the gravity of Isabella’s situation hit him.

Hot Rod Heaven

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"a ratty, red, medium-sized bicycle for sale in a ratty, medium-sized yard."

Trompe l'oeil

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After her grief had subsided, the wife felt immediate relief. / Suddenly she was free to abandon or pursue loneliness

Birds Fly

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Birds fly and people hurry in the wind and rain like it's a matter of pity.

Kittens and the Hands of God

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As the breeze slowly died, another breeze brought her back up, one breeze after another like the hands of God carrying her through the sky.

Black BoBbY BuRiED

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Bobby turned black yesterday. Not like his ethnicity, or skin color. But his soul. Not his soul. Not black either. But a violet desecrating blue. That kind of blue that use to sit in the ocean, then dried up, and vanished into a big terrifying stupor. He looked at me with…

this never happened and yet i tell myself it did each morning

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i watch my mind not wanting to touch the vanished rusty notes remain objects of consciousness heaven and hell inside us each moment birds fly through mental speech dark garden rain olive green cool breath of betrayal siempre mixed with greed awakens…

Father Dunne's School for Wayward Boys #6

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Instead, we found his red-inked list of boys who would never be saved,

~blackbird~

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^ through a busted window in this desert…

Icehouse

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It was noon and cloudless when I pulled over next to the icehouse, wedged in the X formed by two dirt roads.

another love letter

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Table for One

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He keeps re-reading the menu but knows already how it ends..

Every Step, and There Are Lots

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Her plastic shopping bag brushes your leg. You look into it and all you see is a 2 liter of Coke, a bag of Lay’s potato chips and a package of Oreos. It’s so oddly touching, so purely American, that your heart breaks a little bit. You want to hug t

Arrogant Magnolia,

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ARROGANT MAGNOLIA, the first to open all, poised ten feet above our fuss. …

Fucking the Dairy Queen

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I first saw her about a year after I moved back, when I went to Dairy Queen. I know. Dairy Queen!? Ever since I was a kid, I have had a love for the dipped cones. When I used to visit my father on weekends, we would always stop at Dairy Queen on the way back to…

Memoir 2.3

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Coffee comes in KCups and you can't fight five wars at the same time.

The Conversion

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She became suited to herself only. She no longer tried in any way to fit, she fought the molds they created and kept moving in her own direction. Often forward, sometimes a bit backward, and she rightly scaled her own Mt. Olympus and there she sat with he

If. You. Speak.

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The one at dusk is not the one you met this morning. That one's gone like a head in the window.

An ode to ill-used apostrophe’s

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Fragment’s of ignorance strewn by a haphazard hand

Assiduity Twenty Seven

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" . . . with twinges of dread and pangs guilt, I worry . . . "