Most read stories

Breaking And Entering

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Do you know what it is to crave something? Of course you do. But this was different. This was beyond craving.

Away From the River

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Tiny poem

SUNRISE

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

#53 Cut Up

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I loved her when she first came calling in the sodden dawn of spring. She was a strange and dangerous flower. Together we drank up all the money. The days staggered away like drunks lurching down a flophouse hall.

Blades of Grass

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What are the odds of August rain in Texas?

12:00 Somewhere

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"Time really flies.” “I thought that was only when you were having fun,” he said. “Don’t be an asshole.”

Warm Sand And Black Heaven

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He met her at midnight just off the plane and they sized each other with silent growing awareness that no matter what might transpire in distant tomorrows, each served here now as passports to magic and lands far away. On the…

Yearning

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He’d've been up there belting out the hymns then bickering with the vicar after.

The Prodigal Son

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A minute later, a shadow appeared across the left-hand page of the book.

Departures

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Fingers scrabble idly at pocket seams, forage between teeth, grasp for tepid cups, patter a drumbeat on knees.

A Rare Meteor Shower

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Now, as we sat on lawn chairs / on the balcony to watch the meteor shower

The Scrawny Dog Gospel

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Opportunity, says Webster, is a, "favorable juncture of circumstances." In my Oxford book of quotations, there are seven famous lines about opportunity. Seven – that’s it! There are twenty-seven regarding failure. Seems it's been easier for the great

The Last Days of Summer

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Their laughter is of a tiny world that knows nothing of taxes or lost loves, or news reports of flag-draped coffins filled with limbs.

Tincture Shunt Lunch Box

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Most people don't understand what it's like being a pop idol. I am not most people. I am Tincture Shunt, and here I present you with my trajectory to stardom, in case you want to copy it for your own personal use. Unfortunately (for…

the wall

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Looking at an image of a graffiti on a wall on our computer screen we ask ourselves: what is the image's main graffiti-like property? We might answer: its location. But that is a contextual and political interpretation. There's nothing in that answer which addresses the…

remembering

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I remembered because the man took us to see the horses. I didn't see something that set off a series of memories. I only saw the stables and the moon sitting pensively below the firmament. I looked at these and there was spaciousness between the moon and the stables and…

His Bus

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He'd always considered it his bus.

Music Boxes

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Mom would dig through one of her music boxes to pick out Saturday morning's cleaning jams. Tattered, battered Payless shoeboxes with lids ripped to shit, filled to capacity with piles of cassettes; greatest hits albums, mostly, or Time Life compilations of mid-to-late…

Gilbert B Fumbleberry

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“You know, Miss Viv, I love looking at the sun when it’s almost gone. It kinda looks like an orange and apple squished together. Those are the colors. And the puffy clouds under it look like a bed. It’s going to sleep."

SHOPPERS MAKE ME NAUSEOUS

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A meaningful conversation Subdued the huge Toys “R” Us question mark Standing sun-bleached and sprinkler-dirtied In our flowerbed On the patio Explode your fanny pack, A clinking most dangerous The Mysterious: Its …

eve

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she lays there wrapped in his baseball sheets

Down South

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We drank beer and played loose pool, attracted two fun girls, one Jamaican, the other dirty blonde, both of whom seemed interested in only one of the four of us.

Water

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

Stealing From A Corpse

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He kept one scarf. It was the scarf that she would tie around his eyes to play with him, long, until he was in his teens. A silly game that made her happy and he squirmed with delight until he got too old. She did not want him to see her, only to know if

Improvisation on a few lines by Mark Strand

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I am tripping on poetry. Purple ink drips from my eyes like ergot of rye.

It Began With The Waffles

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It began with the waffles, well first there were the potholders, but really the problem was the waffles. I don't even think she knew she was making waffles; much less that she had lost her potholders in the trash can the day before. But nonetheless the real issue here was…

What Matters Is Round

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How do you do my name is Luigi and I am the Duke of Abruzzi. I love bubbles, strawberries, and sheets drying in the wind and sunlight. Hobbies include bank robbery, kidnapping, and extortion. As you can see, the streets…

Guess I'm Finally Over You - song

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All this broken glass in the road Tells the longest story l have ever told Of how you lost your life and I my love And how you still go wandering above I don't know how I can return To the planet where we used to thrive Along this broken

Epic struggle between right and wrong...

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The day was yesterday, November 11, 2010. I was home from work, and I pulled my car into the driveway. I stopped short of the garage to get out of the car and get the daily mail. Bills and unwanted coupons for places I didn't go and for items I don't…

Briefing

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Petty minds think arithmetic thoughts/ in units of dollars and cents// and strive to quantify the world