Most read stories

2011 - What I Wanted

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I might have gotten laid

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.

arhythmetic

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these three remainders you, me and her are the legacy of simple math and boolean logic, not so much

In the Faraway Places

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It was far away and I don't know how we arrived. There were people about that were involved in getting boats into the water or else playing sports games atop green hills. They told me I should go out in a boat with this guy and that he would take me around the island. I…

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.

The Story

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He pronounced the Afrikaans word with the vowel sound like the vowel in dour. It meant box, but it also meant cunt.

Friday 13.10.1307

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This is a warrant for your arrest.

And Father Makes Three

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His father whistles The Torreador's Song in the kitchen; Mirko smells bacon.

Members of the Story

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Pinesatz is standing again. He and Marie seem unaware of time, unaware that Louane is watching them, unaware of waiting for Wendy with the car. Every glance is a hook. Every gleam is a glance. Every stanza is a room. She vies for it.

The Ruined Person

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The pit of my stomach was bottoming out, this lurching sort-of feeling one experiences when one has coasted WELL OVER an abyss and has no way of finding one's bearings . . .

Flying

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I gazed into her soft eyes. I was a little scared. This...this meant something.We'd "accidentally" played footsies and I could feel my lonely feet finally touching the floor."Please listen carefully to these safety instructions — even if you are a frequent flyer…

DOOMSDAY CORN A GRIM FAIRY TALE Written under the guise of a children’s story But primarily written for adults

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Our entire planet became poisoned by the monoculture system of agriculture. Mother Earth, who is the very soil we stand on, play on, dig in; Mother Earth, who is the very air we breathe, laugh in, talk in; Mother Earth, who is the very streams, river

Koo, The Queen of Nowhere

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Koo ate the sad, bitter pills just so she wouldn’t have to try and make small talk about La Donna’s deformed, retarded kid.

Apathy

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There are several people I do not care for much at all—annoying cretins, blasé philistines, or godawful narcissuses—and I do not care much for caring about such people when I encounter them, which unfortunately happens quite often like some cruel lottery where I…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 33

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She’s a gourmet cook who can fake a great orgasm.

BLT

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I had a sister-in-law who was a licensed nutritionist. Not sure what “licensed” means, but she had some certificate and worked in a hospital. Hospitals! Places not known for their cuisine, much less their nutrition. —So, what do you…

A Life of My Own - 6

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. . . my mind stops idling, kicks back into gear . . .

Them, Not Us

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We hold fast to the bed’s corners, afraid our bodies, these new old bodies, have forgotten how to love in its center.

long goodbye

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where are you today?/ where you are is the one thing/ i love & cannot know

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.

There Was a G.I. - January 1970

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was beaten in the back of the brig.

A Broken Frame

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The photograph has no date,but these are my long-ago kin,ancestors just before the boat,six stone-faced on the English shore,sepia on cardstock under glassstill clear in severe, dark clothesexcept one who has been markedout, maybe with black wax,which runs to the bottom…

The Beethoven Delusion

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"It is my argument that a pious fraud has been perpetrated so as to subject mankind to the most humiliating of intellectual enslavements."

Poem for the betraying Lover and his new Love

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Wishing he holds you all night, unshaven chin/between your breasts.

Me and Not Me

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Is there a homunculus in my brain guiding everything like the pilot of an airliner?

Stop

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The dead girl was his niece’s daughter. Only thirteen years old.

Grandma's Fingers

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

maybe, in winter

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I will wrap up in quilts that still smell of summer sun

Questions of the Tenth Month

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my loosening grip on time.

What I Really Wanted

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you can't always get what you want