Most read stories

Cairn

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Your cairns/ are litter in the streets

Fifty Bucks, More or Less by

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who really wants to be a virgin anyway?

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I remember thinking virginity was highly over-rated. Who really wants to be a virgin anyway? I got out of that state as fast as I could. Sixteen years (okay maybe 15 and a half) is long enough of not knowing what to do with your body. Screw that! But th

Airline Passengers! Is There A Right To Recline?

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It's called the Knee Defender. But I prefer to think of it as the Schmuck Identifier.

CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS

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Joanne Simpson sat in her pew of the church that dominated her tiny town, listening to the buzzing of disturbed voices like a hive of bees trapped in a wall. She knew exactly what was wrong. Some parishioners sat on the edge of the pews, while some whispe

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

Commotion with Coffee

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The retired, widowed receptionist slapped one hand to the base of her throat with a gasp . . .

Gonadista Blogsdashiva

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"Shouldn’t I be able to easily get my arms around nothing?”

Advice To A Young Poet

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Touch these words with your mind. They will create an elephant with an unidentifiable itch.

One Story Above the Boy in an Old Car

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Near dusk today a car backfired on the street beneath my office window

As Faulkner's Birthday Nears, Mailmen Ask "What If?"

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Before he became famous Faulkner was postmaster at the University of Mississippi Substation Post Office, a fact that endears him to mailmen around the world.

Actually I Train Woodpeckers for Al-Qaeda

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Now that Spring has sprung I am reminded about the day a former neighbour complained about my squirrel collection. I love to feed the black squirrels that gather in my yard and she became convinced I had trained several ninja squirrels to enter her garden

Buzzard

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what lies, in my eyes

The Eyes

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I've never liked kind eyes;I prefer drive.Or fire.And when a woman's eyes are described as "doe,"I hear "dumb."Like an animal.

Quintet in a Natural Key

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I like the cool and dark beneath my rock./ It protects me from the glare and scorch/ of noonday sun and the chilling shadows/ of midnight moon.

Bearable

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"Don't be dense."

Odysseus Remembered

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Years later Polyphemus still remembers the wine-soaked taste of Odysseus’s men. The barley and garlic-flavored Greeks. Their flesh a fibrous, blood-hued hummus. Their crunched bones releasing sweet marrow.

The Edge

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You're riding on the edge The edge of life and death Popping pills Shooting thrills Snorting coke and meth Running fast from it all Heading for a fall Needle in your arm What do you care Who does it harm Looks change at will With each and every pill …

On The Way To Shabriz

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these dead letters for you... and then they withdrew... something happened on the way to shabriz... my fingertips fell on their knees.

Changes

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She was sitting in her swivel chair talking to a girl who was her younger image, ... “Well, there you go, I’m a fire sign and you’re an earth. That’s just the way it is.”

The Sun's Curtains

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It must be nice not to have to worry About certain things because those things are not yet In your circle, or in your circus, of life. I don't begrudge you for being almost grown in A much different, sweeter place and time. I'm thrilled By…

Off the Record

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“In other words you're going to lie through your teeth..."

Faith in the Rest

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She had the smile of a pixie on mushrooms in a disco ball universe, and I dug her style.

If Hell...

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the sour waft of a secret

Corrective Rejection

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I'm trying to make love to her but she wants to talk.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 41

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Frank was about to take the first bite of a chicken salad sandwich.

Гумилёв и Ахматова via странников

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Walking down an unfamiliar street, / I heard a sudden caw of crows, / some thunder afar, strums of a lute— / a streetcar came flying along.

Puppet X, 2

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It's important to sound human, I know To get fragile near your mother I myself get glimpses now and then

Zin Is Not a True Vegetarian

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She wakes up lip-syncing the remnants of a dream: the throb of cherry blossoms, the whine of lotus flowers.

Model Home

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In the living room of a model home, Mr. Jorgensen lived. He was a mannequin. He spent his days in display windows. He spent his commutes displaying the latest model cars.