Most read stories

War Story: Veteran of a foreign war

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"Did you see any action?" I ask, hoping for a story. He points to a scar ripping through the chevron on his left arm but says nothing.

Smack

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They shoot up through the soles of their feet once the veins in their arms are all used up. They shoot up in their necks like the cows on the African Savannah

fields of gold

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The son stood on the porch with his grip packed. "I'm off to mine me a fortune a gold, Daddy." "Boy, there's a fortune in gold right here," said the father, indicating the ripe wheat, glowing in early morning sun. The kid slumped. "Pop, you turn over a rock there,…

The Duke of Travel

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...he had that same grin, better than a racy French picture.

The Thing on Marlow Street

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After all, if she could get through World War II with no more than a couple of letters and numbers on her arm, she could, sure as hell, get through this.

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 …

Dixon Ticonderoga - 2 5/10 medium

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gotta love a pencil

The Days, the Weeks

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Next morning the thought crosses my mind of snapping Mom’s neck, making sure she’s dead, and then running down to the sea to drown myself.

His Bus

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He'd always considered it his bus.

The First of Many to Fade into the Now We Go Marching Down the Lane for Love Side Street

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for Tracy ThornYou don't need a song about fixed stars, you needa reason to be glad stars are here. Themoon's always been around, but not always like the friend you want,until now. Don't throw it all away becauseyou are too sad to care. You've come into your own. Allthings…

Cow & Fly

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If I can eat a cow...

Control

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Paul and Mary Jo lived in an apartment at the top of a long, dark flight of stairs that were so high, I remember as if it were yesterday thinking, the night she pushed him down the stairs, he would surely be dead by the time he hit the landing at the…

An Interview With Pere Ubu

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Performed October 21-22, Gallery 263, Cambridge, Mass. Kathy-Ann Hart, the Hostess; Ryan Wenke, Ubu; Tyler Catanella, Alfred Jarry; the author--technician.

AUTUMN LEAVES UNDERFOOT

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Goodbye comes in stages. At first you recognize that you will “miss” someone when they are gone. Then you have to accept the fact that they are leaving. And finally accept the fact that they are gone; and not particularly in that order. If only it

Shouting the Muse Down

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In the tumbled-down now there's too much material, culled from pretty boys that don't notice me and tattooed ones that do, and I'm certain there's at least one dreamer soaking eyes into me who knows all the twisted lyrics invoking pretty little horses.

THE LATE SOLICITORS

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Writers, in general, enjoy the solitude that their profession allows, or more precisely, requires. I consider myself a member of that generalized group, along with a more exclusive club of writers who also tolerate an occasional…

The Cheerleader

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

The Walk of Shame

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There it was One abandoned high heel shoe on the sidewalk Could have been Some kind of robbery Though Maybe it was just The beginning of the Walk of shame

Last Cricket

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The weather, mid-sixties now, will take its toll on this singular voice.

Millard Fillmore, Dolphin Flayer

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Last week I heard that there is a new horror movie out about Abe Lincoln, with the plot of the film involving the tallest of presidents hunting down vampire bats with his axe while suspending habeas corpus, writing lame speeches about the freedom of man, restoring the…

The Tall Man’s Secret

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I turn the corner and come face to face with Ed, who's stark naked at the kitchen sink. He chugs a glass of hot tap water from a measuring cup and belches loudly. “Good morning,” he says, as he pisses in the sink. “I drink 6 cups of hot tap…

Five Acts

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The television was playing reruns of Mr. Ed, but it was hard to hear because of the flock of birds in the palm tree. I’d sometimes imagined the birds coming through the window, a swarming of pink cotton mouths, mawing everything in sight.

Picked Up

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Tucker walked the long and lonely stretch of highway in front of him. The loneliness didn't matter; he had his own way of handling that feeling. The walking, however, was wearing away at his mind. How…

Last Stop To Dream

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This time is different. The dream doesn’t continue with endless walking.

ROMANCE

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In the neon light and barroom shadows,

The Fuckers

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The fuckers tumble out of the bathroom like clowns from a tiny car. The girl has these huge tits and dark red hair. She rushes past me, smelling like chocolate. A guy's behind her, holding onto the back of her jeans. He's not good looking enough to…

The Garage Sale

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She excelled at plowing forward. He excelled at staying in one place. Eventually the distances got too great and she put an ocean between them.

writing in loops

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Antique pens better allow an old soul to express what needs expressing.

Once I get through this

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Once I get through this I'm going to start: daily yoga stretches; walking the dog all the way to the waterfall every morning; tossing out, unread, Saturday's ads so I don't think about going into Walmart to buy Stack-A-Shelves (assembly required). Hey, even…

Five

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"It all began with a painting," I said. "Mostly blue. Acrylic. Naturalistic in a modern sense. She was stylized but recognizable, and her breasts were exposed. Everyone could see her disordered skirt. The painter was a fan of Herrick.