Most read stories

Last Stop

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So we stayed on the train admiring the time.

John of God, Painted by Murillo

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NO ONE CAN BE A BASTARD FOREVER

Politics

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These days, you seem to disappear like bread tasted and devoured

Playing for Keeps

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I woke like an animal / breeding thoughts like flies

Lucky in Love

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Clasped his hands behind his head to give a moment’s thought to love and how it had never quite clarified in his mind to run pure and sweet.

the road of no light, the map of no road

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so out to the night, and turning out the stars, so nothing can last, and nothing is taken in

Alfamadog

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It was that special ache between heart and stomach that made me stop things. That ache that cannot be caused by the mere knowledge that you have steered your life into a completely wrong direction. To feel this pain, you also need to have no clue why and how it…

Refugees

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Somebody left CNN on all night long until the news cycle flipped, crashed and burned in its own ruins

A Day in the Life of Mike

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This is a very impromptu piece written at two in the morning based on a prompt from Meg Pokrass, who insisted the following words be used: fussyhairybloomingslipperyflutterdamppaleweedsyanking “Maxfuss” was his password, which was appropriate,…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Coda

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

Lassitude

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It's morning, and the cold black hull of branches sets my resting pier, Amid this drizzle, underneath the poignant pain of birches, wrecked By floods of midyear grieving; wraithlike, Dawn's been becked To paint in shafts of faded rose that shades the fen…

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 Hostage

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My mother should have been a minister or a peace officer. Instead, she was a homemaker who ran the home like an agency. There were certain hard and fast rules.

The Buddhist

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She is not centered, but she finds her way.

Edward Ogle the Dickinson

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Hope is the thing playing checkers

Edward Ogle the fourth

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Charted stars by the dozens / with a side of frizzle onions / dawn showers us with glitter.

My Daughter On Wolf Hill Farm

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I survived as a brave thought,

Stroke One, Stroke Two, Stroke Three

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On Monday, May 7, 2018, at the age of 67, I had a stroke.

Deifying Gravity

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This gravity thing, I reckon, is enamored with me. It loves me so much that it has fettered me with itself.

The Incident

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There are some I don’t recognize. My gaze lingers for a second. It’s bad business this.

Timmy's Singularity

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Suddenly, the room was filled with a screaming vortex directed at a pinpoint in the corner. Timmy's bureau was gone and everything loose in the room was flying towards the spot it had occupied. Timmy stood up in horror. He tried to seal this rent by tossi

Everything Foreign

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In college, I made friends with my Jewish roommate. Her name was Leah and she was from Brooklyn. When she asked me home with her for Thanksgiving, she mentioned we could go to synagogue together. I asked if there would be other black people there. "No," Leah…

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

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Eva stepped out of the hut she and Javier shared and slogged through the mud toward the coop to fetch fresh eggs for Javier's breakfast. None existed. Javier became angry when he didn't get his eggs. Eva slowed her pace as she neared the door. She knew wh

Monsters and Me

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Godzilla, Mothra, Kong, Rodan. Most people know these Giant Monsters through the movies. What the majority of the population doesn't understand is, that these are monsters are real. Like the myths of ancient times, these movies are just a way that our

Hey, Boys, Bandits!

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I remember one time that summer I was with you (1964) going to a bar in maybe it was Melrose Park, or Northlake, or somewhere along Roosevelt Road closer to Chicago, not as far as Cicero though. I went there with a crazy gear-head named Roger Hudson, wh

My eHarmony Profile

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I’m up to my ass in social media.

The Shirt Library

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I hate buying shirts. There's no point. You need a shirt, you go to the library.

instead

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instead of gun metal deceit, sounds of malice;be a drop of rain.

The Breakable Bonds

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I signed up for functional I did not ask for this mixed bag of broken glass I have enough to swallow

My Brother's Bedroom

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they say the sense of smell is the strongest sense connected to memory, but not for me