Most read stories

The Cheerleader

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He sat behind her in Honors English, each day studying everything about her.......

Pantheon

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gods aren’t going to help you son

In the Sequence of Events

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Eroica sprawled among/ the horns and violins

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

Elegy for the Sun

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When winter comes again…

Of the Terrible Angels and Their Fleshy Conduits

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Other pathways are more satisfactory. They are more closely attuned to music of the other world. Even so, the heat eventually burns them up.

Unfinished Journal Entries (which only goes to prove just how unprofessionally untutored I am)

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I could tell you right nowwhat I'm thinking aboutbut that would not be sacrificeenough. Takes all kinds, and youonly listen when it'ssomething you think is instantlyoverpowering. I swear, there's always something not quiteright with you. There's a silly left…

Exhibit

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Late in the morning, standing in line, clutching a bag of Meow Mix, I listen to the woman waiting behind me. She's having a cell phone conversation about the Treasures of Ancient Egypt exhibit. It‘s in New Orleans, she says, and the kids liked the mummy. I slide…

Change of Heart

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They pumped him full of electricity and waited.

The Dead in Paris, Parts 5 and 6

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The virgins smirk / // We got medieval on their asses

Going Along for the Ride

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You could hear her coming from a long way off like she kept trying to catch her breath, like she was getting the fun rattled out of her bones. But it was laughter, always laughter that kept on filling up her belly from the inside and she was

Eternally Shall Be the Leaves I Rest

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All greatest things are tokens of themselves: They need no tongues to say why they are so, To say why suns surpass historic gulfs Or why the rain sheds more tears than the snow: Yet man must strive to paint what falls beneath The glance…

Oed is Dead

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I COULD always sleep. Go "home" now and sleep. My body and my fetus—who complain of this torture—would appreciate sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have to try to wake.

last attempt at innocence

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When we were leaving to go to the ice rink, Lynda surprised all of us by saying she wanted to come along. She slid all the way over in the front seat to be next to me, while one of my buddies, Miller, who had his eye on her himself, slid into the passen

Writing 101

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looked briefly – glanced shouted loudly – yelled fell down – fell

living in the flames

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After it is over, I go out into the world, to the café. The flower sellers are setting up their booth outside the glass doors. Classical guitar over the speakers. A soft rain falling. Heads bowed, reading the news. Coffee, croissants, cappuccino. This g

What Momma Draws on Windows

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...the woman of the sun, twelve stars around her head, the moon at her feet.

The Giver and The Gone

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They were once a crown,of some living stag -- not quite old,not quite young: now bone. Something at the cusp of its age. Here they stand, given by a loved friendon a place in my home; smelling, whenI get very close, of time. They are shaped like small…

The American Dream: An Update

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Last time I saw the American Dream was Tuesday, down at the Unemployment Office. He was looking pretty worn out, as if being unemployed for over a year was finally getting to him.

And So Wit Begins...

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My writing career began with sitting around the tree eating Christmas presents.

gathering

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the moon tops the monolith

Fate

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decline the prof­fered hand

What happens when you listen too much

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It's definitely not her pretty face that made him smile so quirkily when she returned in the evening.

Out of Time

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I was so high on the not knowing, I thought, you will love me for my confusion. And so I allowed myself to reach further inward than either of us felt comfortable. I imagined a delicious vanilla pudding at the core of my exploration, sweet and satisfying enough for me to…

running, returning

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The broken car horn wailed for 40 days and 40 nights.

Thanksgiving, 2018

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The cornbread for dressing cools./ The cranberries boil with one cup each/ of sugar and water. The aromas are nice

black

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my soul is black and it's deep like heartbreak and heavy as stone and as thick as ink and it is pressing on top of me like last nights one night stand like dead weight so that I can't lift my arms or spread my legs it feels like I am walking through mud but it's…

Edward Ogle the Andy

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Concrete coffeecake drumbeat gyrate Andy Rooney ran a meter.

Pessoa

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Pessoa, wake up, I need your help!I want to be the universe, I need to be the universe. And somehow be no-one at all. I want to expand and be everything and not be tragically held by One. But I need your help, old man, because my words are not enough to make me forget that…

Cherry of Menloves

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Miranda laughed. The cream of the retail industry laughed...