Most read stories

Prologue - On the Lips of Children

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Their tongues were dry, her milk was gone, and the last bit of water in the plastic jug had evaporated.

Slightly Damp Clothes In the Morning

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It begins with his positioning.

The Nurse

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I lay on a table in a cold room in one of those little blue gowns that open in back.

A Memoir

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…she smelled of sunflowers.

Weeds

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on cd I make john hiatt does not smash perfectly good guitar

Up & Down Stairs

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Nature has patience.

Shakespeare's Dark Lady -- John Hudson (review disguised as fiction)

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William Shakespeare (a surname that meant "wanker" back in the day, by the way)

Cancer Always Calls Collect -- Part 23 --- Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

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In the end nothing could bring him back because I tried. All those weeks and months, yet all I have left are the tears and memories. He said when he asked the final questions to those in charge he was confused.

By Derangement of All Our Senses

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We will collapse in a storm of images

Bardo

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In the quiet dark, fathers reappear.

When I Was Young and Beautiful

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I just picked up and went to Rome when I was young and beautiful When I was young and beautiful I played with life like it didn’t matter or exist When I was young and beautiful I never failed Beach nudity Etc Didn’t move me But d

Alice in Hell: 13 slithy variations

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1. Having made Alice from one of the Mad Hatter's ribs, Humpty Dumpty told her she could do anything, except speak. “How bothersome!” she said.2. In the church, Alice was horrified to be presented with a talking lamb. “EAT ME!” it bleated and, as the…

The Cicada's Complaint

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Shiva and Zeus convene a focus group. “It wouldn’t work,” the panel votes. “Those leaf eaters would strip the trees and crops if we let them come back every year.” “That’s true,” Jehovah reasons. “Remember that plague of locusts I sent down?”

We're all Mad here. I'm Mad. You're Mad!

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She heard the quick footsteps and knew where they were headed. Running down the hall she knew she “only had 1 hour left and there was no time to waste”.

Beauty

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"If only we could all look like that." "Truly lovely … such a perfect face." The gallery was busy that day. But still the man and woman stood.

60 is the new 20

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I once saw a TV commercial that showed a group of Anglo retirees laughing around a card table. The slogan 60 is the new 20 floated beneath their fat, fun-loving heads. My parents are bona fide Baby Boomers. Their lives are build on credit and catchy…

Of Alleys & Ivory

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“You think it’s a self-castrating suicide note or a self-righteous freedom speech?” “Probably just the ramblings of a madman, pissed he lost a company baseball game.” “Fuckin-A, Pete! Double-murder suicide for a baseball game? Ain’t nobody that craz

Nail polish

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Those in the house don’t notice the sweaty woman on their lawn any more than they notice the Ruger LCP pistol she holds limply in her right hand.

You Have No Idea

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“I want you to face the toys!”

Unconfirmed Revelation Vouchsafed by Paris

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Poets die every day but are seldom in position to put the experience to literary merit.

In Memoriam

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One by one, cars filed into the cemetery, pelted by the summer rain under a gun-metal sky. The procession moved slowly, a series of brake lights and headlights, too close together, too far apart; there were sedans and SUVs, mini-vans and pick-up trucks, shiny new vehicles…

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,

Napomo 17: April 1-6

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April spit its greeting, toe to head.

bucket of keys

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I imaged him at his mother's house, eating chicken and tabouli with her at her round marble table, leaning back and laughing, then reading my “love you” and excusing himself to cry in the bathroom.

Back East

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Could even drift off to New Orleans for a slow sip of a hurricane

September 26, 2016

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whatever weaknesses you displayed// as empathetic human fellow traveler,/ your command of English survives you,// on into the last echoes of the human/ once we’re gone.

An Alphabet

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A daydreams about a woman whose name he’s forgotten next to B, who’s been drunk since afternoon.

About The Author

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Gnarly Berger was born in a guitar case in Istanbul. His mother was an Iranian singer from Israel accompanied by a Turkish santur player & a French guitarist (Gnarly's biological father) and into whose guitar case Gnarly entered this world, somewhat by accident,…

Endless

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Endless. I find this story.Beginning. To walk.Repeating. Repeating.The Memory. Of snow.Amsterdam. Rivers narrow.Hearts. Divide.Hands. Emboldened.Patronizing. Unpatriotic.Semblance. House held open.Forging. The ties…

hands

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He cleaned off the pump with a steel brush. Then he took it out to the pressure washer. Out there was where a lady that looked like a witch used to move around and sit on the fences like a crow. The air was humid, and the men were dressed in heavy blue coveralls.…