Most read stories

The 0th Parallel

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These are the days you wish would never end.

Darkness On My Mind

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Darkness on my mind doesn't make me blind.

Carpe Mentis

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machine utility of thought, intangible aesthetic of sentiment.

Sorrow

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It's not a funeral. Nobody to mourn over.

Rags to Riches to Rags, 1

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1 Al Capone was ruling the backstreets and alleyways of Chicago during Prohibition, and we lived in a little house right next door to a speak-easy. I could peak through our curtains and see right into the bar next door when cops came in to get pai

Staying With Mattie

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I invited Henry to go out with me and Marge, suggesting he ask Ellen who he dated a while back and who still asked about him, but Henry shook his head “no” and said “out things” were just too boring at our ages — and besides, since his…

You Have No Idea

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“I want you to face the toys!”

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Coda

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—Man, what a tearjerker way to end an interview, said Ben.

In the Seoul Metro

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I’ve seen your tired souls riding under the city lost in the drowsiness of morning calm commutes.

Ready to Go

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Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my…

Three Questions on Distance Running

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Do you see the hot coals of doing? The way time sizzles or wilts…eat those coals.

Why Men Compete

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It starts on the Fallopian Speedway:

When Deer Attack

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Carla woke up from her hospital bed screaming. "Somebody please help me. Please save me. I am begging you."

Eloise

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Even at five years old, I could tell that Eloise was haunted by ghosts that shook her core, leaving her dangling and seeking stability in slowly repeating her compulsive routines.

ExsanguiNations

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leaches fatten-up

Event Particle

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She is a manifold of temporal flows.

Tariff Happy

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Expose those for whom freedom is greed.

Bright Red

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They shoveled coal into the furnace of the city so the ghosts would be warm for their haunting.

Happy Christmas to my quantum mechanic-

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this elegant silver wrench/ which from the opposite side/ becomes a golden Phillips-head

Drummer Boy

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A door slams. The vibrations rattle through the floor, up his legs and into his chest. He can hear the yells, and the tears that mar her voice. Rat-ta-tatRat-ta-tat A door slams. Eyes closed while images of a life he will never live flicker on…

Brief excerpt from the Fantasy thing I'm writing.

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Lucien Lucien Tidesquall lay almost sleeping amid the soft green grass. His eyes irradiated green midnight under vanquished brows. A plover hovered somewhere in the distance. It reminded him of a poem he had written as a teenager, a haiku that went as…

Sunrise

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The musician’s wife had a roving eye. He didn't care. He liked being married to a wild and crazy woman.

Bear Weather

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Man, this bearskin rug was a big, awkward sonofabitch on his back....

A Losing Hand

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A group of us from work are playing cards at a friend's house, so when my brother Jimmy calls, I take my phone into the other room. I already know what it's about, really the only reason he ever calls these days.“Look, I hate to ask,” he begins, the way he…

New/Old

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With spring rain And greening buds

the leisure to walk about sweetly

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You seemed to have that leisure to walk about sweetly when I was with you, honey-singing the reward for the intensity of emotion you lunged about in. Nothing seemed like it was going to hurt or harm anyone, even while I was going nuts between the legs.

A Man

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He was lit up faintly.Standing in a room of golden proportions (which is not saying a lot), he was one stood man (which is). The only lamp, a seemingly old neon, hanging short from its chains, shone darkly above none. None but a five-feeted glass plane, upon which glossy…

The Polish Worker

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... and that’s the story of the Polish worker who looks like van Gogh.

The Zone of Forgotten Things

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In the zone of forgotten things, everything moves through a weak gravitational field

Blonde on Blonde

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Happens at a party, this way, past frat boys perched in branches like idiot hoot owls,