Most read stories

Waist Deep in Tissue Packs

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It didn't matter if they burned or not.

Nothing to Worry About

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The boss has a serious problem--he's too nice for his own good.

Summer, finito

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one season slips into another

President Liz

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I fancy myself a spy. Unofficial official of the H. O. A. Super secret free agent agent of the Glenwood Homeowner's Association. Even the board is unaware of the work I do in their name, without the faintest utterance of their name. Only the highest of the high, the…

Not Death but Decrepitude

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A bedridden ward of the state,/ warehoused in a nursing home,/ unable to drive to the liquor store/ for whiskey and cigarettes,

Confidence

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one day the words will form an order, one day the words will make a rhyme, one day the words will make a meaning

leyh (they say)

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and then he began to sing, along with the ghostly villagers

April

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Well, hello hunger: what a sweet surprise.

Mean

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I was in a bar waiting for a friend when two ugly women sat next beside me. When our eyes met, they gave me a smile. I smiled back out of courtesy. I wasn't in the mood to have a conversation not because they're unattractive, but my friend was horribly…

The New Poetry

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The new poetry comes in shining metal boxes covered in glass so you can peer in.

Urban Skunks

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Urban skunks want to visit your neighborhood and be bold in your neighborhood.

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…

Philip and Gene

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Our lives are lived backward in memory...

An Excoriated Sensibility

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The machines of her perception/ tuned themselves to frequencies// that peeled her skin and fatty tissue

Carmen Rental

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But in 1991 Carmen developed a heroin habit and was forced to sell her powder blue, convertible Mercedes 500SL...

PTSD

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the queue for hell

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.

here, winter

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a day so brittle

Inconvenient Weather

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With the sudden thrust// of April green, we can forget/ our drought continues.

A Writer Abroad

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Here’s an obvious fact: I live in Germany, but don’t speak much German. Okay, I speak very little German. Truth be told, hardly any.

My Stigmata

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“Don’t you think you should tie a tourniquet or something?” she asked as I bled profusely from the points where Jesus was wounded during his crucifixion.

Hype and Melancholy

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Sonia banks on hidden things in the minds of other people, whereas I bank on what I know.

Old Beat-Up Trunk (containing a History of Forgotten Paintings)

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The world can still be viewed as a honey drop of sparkling rain, but not all washed up tears can be revealed as such. The stories swirling inside are constantly shifting their own gears, searching for the lost highway, and sometimes…

Thanksgiving Carnage

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The game is set, thirty pound gobbler at the center; brined, browned, and buttered to perfection. The players take their places around the table: Reagan’s_Disciple and BraBurner38 sit at the head seats, eyeballing each other over a fizzing bottle of dom

The Chair

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His thoughts drifted to when he was a kid, to the monthly trip to the barber.

The instruments

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TromboneA trombone blusters his waythrough the bright restaurant,demanding to see the chef.He's furious;the prawns have given himsplitnotes.ViolinsFour violins wait for a bus in the rain.The pervading atmosphere of melancholymakes their plaintive scrapings redundant.AxeThe…

Mechanics

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Seems I was in the wrong place, wrong time.

Anselm Kiefer Painting, 1

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The damaged sky is not more black than your hair, Ashen tonight and floating over the land in blackened Smoke, where the furrows run with milk light Or snow, blue and white, and the world-ash floats. Your patient body sleeps and the white pain

The Train Rolls On

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From my office window, I watch the trains roll in and out of the city. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of passengers staring out windows as the train slows, the ones who have another destination. I've been on those trains before, ones that took me far away from all that…

Coyote Captured Outside Lower Manhattan Café

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I heard the patron yelling, “Hey, man! That’s my cappuccino!” when the young female snatched it and got away. But the police cornered her a few blocks away, licking the last bits of foam off her wiley whiskers. That’s how they knew they had