Most read stories

Weeknights, Idling, Candlelight

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I find that I am keeping silent more often. I don't like repeating myself.

The Calamity Train (Pulling Seven Cattle Cars):Remixed for the Occupy Yourself Movement

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We believe in our love storyin spite of the ferocious efforts ofserial bankerseverywhere to discourage us from looking our damned nearprettiest if we really feel like it. I meangranted they do do their ugly troll dogimpressions of…

Raw Meat

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I took Annie to the zoo, and the tigers got out. The little tigers, that is. Cubs.

taken

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today somewhere by water this photograph of a woman

Best Laid Plans

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My obituary wasn't in the morning paper, so I headed to Target.

Renewal

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At first he thought it was a cat she was holding, swathed in a white, fleece blanket

Hooker

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I returned to Minnesota from Montreal a week ago to realize that my sweetheart in Manhattan had hired a Ukrainian escort.

An Attempt at Reconciling with the Non-Existent

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dealing with an over-aged imaginary friend gone rogue

the oracle withers, because it is so late

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I remember some of the tight-fitting garments you wore, your looks seeping through them. The light blonde hairs at your neck and at your middle. Were we really expected to keep our hands off each other? It is foolish to think so. I know what I was think

Bougainvilla Drive

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blue plexiglass skateboard is holding the light of a turmeric sun. jacob turns it this way and that and lets it sit on its side atop parking curbs. denim legs canvas feet. looking down sign ridden streets and squinting. sometimes sun showers leak out. cotton…

Biscuits and Gravy

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Lips touch briefly at first

The Magic Treehouse

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It was an unseasonably warm day in early spring when I first saw the man in the treehouse. The boys had just climbed onto the school bus, the older with shoulders hunched, weighted down with the gross unfairness of his early adolescent life, the younger still scribbling…

Drifting

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it's all a bit like the quiet steam drifting to nowhere off my microwaved hot coffee in the sunflower mug

77 Words About Nothing [5-01-12]

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You looked innocent and I was the epitome of just that …

Long Night, Hard Night

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It had been a long night, a hard night. The sky had been filled with blackened clouds, patters of wind snapping and whipping like a pirate's flag hung at full mast. Rain beat…

Peyote Buttons

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In the sides of mountains the rivers rush through and who would stop them as they gain a hold on the world? For silences they keep just then, as if from a larger wisdom and different clock. Pink moons and funny coins with the heads of lions and lambs, and the quarter…

Lights Out in the Ardennes

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Once with the lights flickering....

Second Hand

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“Okay, here is a wild idea. Let's each choose outfits from the second hand store for the other to buy and wear to a bar for a drink..." Famous second to last words?

Mesmerized

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Those eyes – they held a lost blue sadness that enveloped her and stopped her mid-movement.

children

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Since I have never found any mention of children that you may have had in your writings, I've been a little reluctant to tell you this story. It may be a touchy subject for you...I don't know. It's a lot of conjecture on my part, but there's one indispu

what audible skill

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We all heard the audible skill you had, speaking smoothly of our lives, saying audibly what has driven us, who are huge with night, rising with its origin inside, and clear water running past, beyond, behind, and after us. To honor, to fear utteranc

Chu Berry, Tenor Wrapped in Swaddling

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They heard Chu’s voice, he was lying ten feet away, his skull opened up. “Find my change,” was all he was saying. “I left my change around, look for it."

Our Enormous Fat Man

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Pity would have been appropriate. Yet, townsfolk whispered behind his back. Shouldn't he do something about it. So lazy. A gluttonous swine. Hadn't his mother kept him too long at tit, breastfeeding ‘til four? Look. Look at him now. A fat man. Our enormou

The Sadness That Can Be Gulliver’s Travels

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One day, he decided instead to be-pet them,

Five Million Yen: Chapter 64

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Mulvihill suspected, but could not prove, that the connection to all three murders and the three men was a painting

Nesting Code

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scratches

Between the Trees

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In his head the moment would have been different.

just because the maker of the tracks and the tracks themselves are invisible doesn't mean there's nothing there

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breathe out somewhere a tree falls

Digging In The Darkness

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I dig with no light to guide the aim of my shovel but the stars peeking through the trees which are fuller now then when you went away.

My Girlfriend The Night (Vigil, Rain, and the Round Beet Sun)

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The sun was a red beet and it waited low in the sky but I didn't know for what reason. You could look right at it and forget for an instant about tenement buildings and hydro lines, or the dirty city in general. I tied my shoes and got some water…