Most read stories

The Truth

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I want you to tell me the truth, she said. The whole fucking truth.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 2

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Ben exited the uptown Broadway Local at 103rd and oriented himself.

Off Shoots

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My name is Lassie.

Like 37 Hiroshima Bombs

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Once in a while I have the time of my life / in this god-forsaken Earth:

Chest Bump Bass Detroit

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son a superfly/alligator shoe clad/networking man/working a beeper and flip phone/twisting blueberry spliffs/on ma's porch

Me and Coleridge Take a Spin in the Phlegethon

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Like so many high school drugheads I warmed up to Coleridge because he was an dope fiend. If you want to get young men interested in poetry it helps if you lure them to the art through controlled substances.

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.

Inner City

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This time he was dressed in a snap-brimmed hat, zoot suit with a gold chain and two-toned shoes; something out of a sad, lost Los Angeles past. I had no choice but to follow him as he walked down stairs that led to the Metro. We stood near one another,…

Senior Center

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Some of the elderly men and women are coming forward....

Perfect Lady

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I want to write a story about a woman who lies to men about her height.

Picnicking In Mt. Misery Cemetery

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Picnicking In Mt. Misery Cemetery We breathe the damp shade, plum trees shining in a woodland where there are few wrong things I want to remember-- the steel fence of the power company blazing under an arc light is one. On this day of ripening fruit …

The Games We Play

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During the hangover, I crawl to my desktop computer and then Google “rapid STI testing” and “speedy divorce”

A Little Man on a Rainy Corner

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He is sitting in the infinite rain and the water is making him some infinite silhouette

Five Million Yen: Chapter 39

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Ben followed Jean-Claude’s white Fiat. Every time Ben shifted gears, he was reminded of Arris’s punch.

Metropolitan

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Metropolitan I. Atlantic harbinger of this our swaddled dawn: Mistaking moon's sea sweep for this the frown The sky's plain-countenanced creatures maytimes weep Upon the surface-sundown of our lawn, When gaily surfaced for…

Memoir 2.3

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

Shame On 34th Street

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This tanka poem was inspired by news report that the Macy's of "Miracle on 34th Street" fame has a white Santa in front and a black Santa in back.

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…

Session Fifteen

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"That it was my stepdad's fault."

Marcia's birthday party

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Her friend was a performance artist who gave Marcia a framed picture of her vagina, made with menstrual blood. At least that’s what she told everyone.

The Truth Of Jello

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Franz Kafka opens the refrigerator And removes a bowl of jello With the face of Bella Abzug in it

Damaged Goods

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As she slunk to her topless Mercedes sparkling curbside, wax job hand rubbed in Hamburg, testosterone heads turned wishing similar treatment.

The Note

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... “All power is just behind your belly. Look. Knot of belt – just in front of navel – navel is eye of chi.” ...

Spring in November

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It is dead, for a time. Sometimes we are all dead for a time. Our lives leave off, sleep under the weight of snow.

Every Headache

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It’s possible that you’re dying. Every headache a brain tumor, your friend once said. You laughed then. Now you begin to see what he meant.

Mr. Feisty Mischievous

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His nervous cackle makes me sick - Oh, if only - Times were different - That knife - Would fit so nicely in his back

Proprietary

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One by one the hundred matte black drones hummed awake. The buzz was loud on the tiny airfield but died out soon among the waving amber heads of Kansas wheat that surrounded the unsigned base.

Small Man

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When Reg Cuff heard that Sandlewick's abandoned Tiny Town model village was up for sale, he sold his home and failing business and moved right in.

CHAIN

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I awake to find a heavy chain shackled around my ankle. I try to remove it but cannot. The length of the chain runs through my apartment, sometimes coiling around itself, but eventually leading out my front door.

In an Irish pub with a lot of oiled wood

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“I love women. They’re like goddesses.”