Most read stories

Henry's Night

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Henry recognized the shoes. “There’s a little vampire came in with those on, but I last saw her over by the juice bar.” He couldn’t be bothered with Arthur’s “sections.” The club wasn’t that big that it had to be defined by sections.

Exhibit B

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My sweet granny was like Exhibit A that I was adopted. I mean, how can anyone be sure?

Go Running Up That Hill

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Better move ‘cause I hear them comin’ up the other side.

SUNRISE

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There is a false dawn, when night still holds sway, but tempered with promise; anticipation.

Her Smile

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The white and yellow are sublime and desperately powerful, like angry screaming over tears and through laughter or hatred. Maybe the words are about crying or laughing, but the expressions are altogether impenetrable and distant. The jokes told behind the teeth and through…

Reading Without an ISBN

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The goal is to perform along with Jason Lee Norman--who is touring with his book of very short stories called Americas--a selection from my own collection called Country Without a Name. The symmetry excites me.

Interlude in Trader Joe's Parking Lot

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I'm pulled in by the music like a rogue wave and he has no idea I'm drowning...

greta

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you knew the lightbent it in your favorleapt confidentlyacross heartscheeks and shouldersrouged chromaticincandescent pretendingperhaps the dark had no claimover your lonely clumsy soul© 2013 - Rene

Investigation

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In this way a section of a marsh or weapons testing range, a forest or corporate landscape is transported into his living room.

Variations on a Theme by Pina Bausch

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Threads of sadness in the hands, in the touch

Wanderer and The Temple

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the odd stone stands/taller than trees/it protrudes from the young forest/an old mecca but smooth

Oh Captain, Good Captain: Part I

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I once knew a sailor...

Sing for Me

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I am beginning to worry. There is something that they are not telling me. I am afraid that something bad is going to happen.

Ponies

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“The moon is a monk,” you said.

Generation Blues

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A Satire We are the Social Justice soldiers, we parrot platitudes and lies, And expect you all to worship the same things we idolise. We ignore Islamic extremism and domestic terrorism too, Because we are Cultural Relativists whose brains are up our…

7-Eleven, 2AM

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In this 7-Eleven at 2AM I can write the saddest lines. / Among these malcontents and degenerates I am Ovid

The Donkey

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Since dawn doesn't understand my words, I will give them to the donkey, finely cut for him, let them ferment some time and add a few sprigs of lucerne. The donkey grazes in the meadow down the road and always welcomes me with a grin that displays his mauve gums and his…

Fernando

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“It's not him,” Kelly says. “I think it might be,” says her Mom. The three of us are sitting on the long sofa facing the wall which is one …

You are here

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meditation and thoughts run in circles

The World as Thrill and Calculation

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Professor Immanuel Danda finished his Ph.D. at 21, which, according to most of his friends and a few of his enemies, makes him a genius, though, personally, he always found himself to be a scruffy loser, if one were to believe, above all else, the mirror

Wellington Crescent/Rubber Soul/50/50

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They are kind of cool though I’ll admit…pretty types with perfect angles and poise and judicial daddies and shade tree homes, holding their books preciously against their tight bodies as if they’re into academics or something.

In This, Our Life

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Her captors allowed her the use of the toes of one foot. It was hard to pretend she was numb—as if playing an artic game indoors. With the ball of her foot, she primed the canvas. Her big toe acted as a fan brush, the rest were sable, flat, or pointy. She told…

Mind Altering

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She felt like she was turning into someone else, someone who appeared normal. She would be inundated with everyone else's ideas, morphing into an insipid lemming, smiling and bantering about mindless things. She wouldn't even care she had changed...

First Things Go First And End Up Being Last (the Big Enough Picture)

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I don't have to show you how to fly. I don't even know who you are still possibly trying to be in this crazy grounded world. But the words make us family. I can't help that or what you might do with that public tweet tweet…

Father Dunne's School for Wayward Boys #10

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I'm standing on a toilet, trapped behind a stall. Watching Father U mop up the blood.

Water

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After ten days in Jeddah, I start to miss the rain back home in Tennessee....

The Exiled Realm

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destinies bring me to a damned desert

#26 Relation>Relation (A Poem)

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Something like: Answers to questions you might not yet have? [Answers we will try hard not to provide]

Sarah Nell

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There are two, though, that stayed for more than just a little while: Marvin and Oscar. Marvin was married and that's all I have to say about that. Oscar wasn't and it seemed as though he wasn't planning on getting married either. What a petty man he was.

Precipitants

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we’ll never win/ the ongoing battle with dirt.