Most read stories

Gun Play

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The guy – it’s Billy Krazik - turns and aims at Jamie Stockwell, sitting there calmly as if he’s in the play or something and he takes two to the head.

A Drowning

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This is the record of a drowning.

Perfect Lady

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

Bringing a New Poet into Your Home

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You may want to pretend to leave once or twice, peeking in through a window from a darkened room, to see how they interact. Never leave a new poet unattended with the pack until you’ve determined that the new arrival has learned to fit in with the other w

Fourth World

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Where are you going, boy who never was?

Virgo

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I said he was cold. I said I like cold.

A Storm A-Brewin'

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"I'm just saying," the older man continues, "We oughta be ready in case she hits." "We'll be fine," the woman says. "We've weathered every storm that's ever come through here just fine."

Blow Me

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[BEEZLEBUB SAYS, "GO!"]

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.

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.

Goodbye Uncle Jack

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He fought off the U-boat packs in the Atlantic — one hand on the tiller, one on the torpedo launch button.

"Daddy, Can You Find the Cheerios?"

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Why, these were the young hands that I kissed only last night.

tremendous thousand years' charisma

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Okay, I’ll admit it, the earth was shaken on the world's underside, when you left for California. And I sometimes slept on the shores of Lake Michigan and Fox River for your tremendous thousand years’ charisma. To say I cried out in pain would be lettin

Our Last Tea Party

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It’s the Tea, stupid. Drink up.

A Dutiful Daughter

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The first indication I had of what I look like came when a man put me back on the rack, remarking that I was too pink. Over the weeks that followed, I gained a few more ideas about my appearance from the comments of people in the shop. My photographic side had been…

Dina Goes to Belfast

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Dina was a woman obsessed. She had endured a three hour layover in Chicago and another four in Heathrow for this. (The flight she had enjoyed with a few glasses of red and an HGTV show about plumbing that she could watch again and again.) She had staked out this corner of…

Sunday Morning Series- 4: Roast Lamb of God

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Squeeze the Word into Flesh

The Good Son

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They’ve deduced she’s still of sound mind and body. What do they know?

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

bloodletting and the strobe of hearts

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the injured color wheel of the world

Barking at the Moon's Silhouette

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We took our turn at the younger stage. One good turn deserves another and all that crap. But does it always have to strong-arm the world's latest lovers apart with so much pushed and shoved ultra violence?So far…

Luminous Nights, 2

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The house where my brother lived up in the hills above Hollywood, looked like any other suburban house on any normal street Anywhere USA, except that once you got inside the house — spread out at your feet was a panoramic view over a canyon that was act

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.”

Boise Poetry Slam

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The boy buckled in and told his mom, “No mommy, I can do it myself”

A little bit of babysitting

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Roy Williams was his real name. It had been for the last 15 years. Since retiring from the Firm he’d lived innocuously in an apartment near the Old City walls of Dubrovnik doing the occasional quick job for them. You never entirely retired from the Firm.

The New Girl

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She’s new, with the enthusiasm of a new person. And everyone wants the new girl.

Suicidal at Bed Time

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Some nights I want to take my father’s glock / and build my skull a sunroof.

Matchbox Car

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Clatters and clatters ensued, and the splash destroyed all denial.

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…

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.