Most read stories

Morning Night (2,3,4)

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Monday MorningI wake slowly. My breath still escapes me. He's asleep on the sofa, legs hanging, hand hanging, lips hanging, a river of saliva somewhere. He tries to be the one that's okay when I'm not, but really he's just as bloody as I am. I wait til he starts to…

Stableford

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Mike Summer's moustache was perfect. Hard bristle and so symmetrical it looked cut to the angles of a military imperative. He was pretty proud of it, thought the team of beaters, who watched him as he sat on the boot ledge of his sage green Mercedes 123 T, combing…

Crimson and Clover

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The world follows me everywhere. I can’t get rid of it. I’m being stalked by a planet.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 38

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—Francesco, I wish you would give up smoking, said Michiko.

Beginning, Another Bright Red Day

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Pick up any stick or stone and you'll find the path again. Pick out any lone star and it will shine just for you. The rascal wind simply enjoys messing about with your serious nature. Listen to its…

"The Game Is Rigged" (A 2nd Letter From Uncle Bernie)

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We used to have a saying: steal an old lady’s pocketbook and you’ll go to jail, steal her pension and you’ll go to the Ritz.

Brains

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My memory is like tracks in the snow. My memory is cookie dough. My memory is dirty tube socks.

On A Carport in Bethlehem

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I can hear soft rain

Her Return

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She approached him submissively, face down, eyes hidden by hair that moved with every shift of the current.

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,…

Five Million Yen: Chapter 22

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-Looks like you could use some light, Austerlitz, said one of the men in a heavy Russian accent, or perhaps you prefer the dark?

here, winter

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a day so brittle

For my Unknown Love

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I still remember the old times when we were together. I wish I wouldn't have let you go. If you ever thought that we should be together, please come back.

where you had me

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You already had me in all your other paintings. You already had me in every possible position. Underwater, in a car seat, on your back lawn at night with lightning coming from the west, bending over to sniff a rose, with my panties down around my knees.

Metafictionaut

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I'm available most weekends.

Have to Find a Way

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I have to find a way To evolve To become To grow into something else To become something else I have to find a way To let go Loosen my firm grasp Watch it all fall away Let myself fall away Drop this act This weight This mess of a life This mess I…

taken

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today somewhere by water this photograph of a woman

sediment

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I'm re-invented on Main St. every single day.

Starlight Standup

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They wink at me as if to share/ a cosmic joke whose punch line’s still/ a couple dozen light years out

I Kissed a Shirelle

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What do you do when a Shirelle asks you if you’re in the mood to dance?

Take Two Llamas and Call Me in the Morning

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A nursing home that doesn’t believe in antipsychotic drugs uses alternative methods to calm patients, including a llama named Travis who walks through the halls.

notes on flying

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Going to Atlanta 6AM Despite all the issues presented by Delta this morning (the rescheduling of my 7am flight at 1am to a flight at 10, giving me a two minute layover time in Detroit, and my eventual own rescheduling of my flight to 6am, and waiting…

Truck, Medusa’s Hair Aflame, Young Boy Watches

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Air. But fire against the air. An interruption in the blue sky otherwise. Painted without a spread blemish or problem. Now there is a problem. I am roused from sleep. Sister says, Look. Look. Jacob wake up. What? A truck is on fire. What is? A…

What It Took To Be God

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They borrowed birds from the trees And forced me to sing along with them You could say they made my heart burn But we all know some of that was fake It was a direct route From sleep walking To sleep shopping To this I guess I lived a

The Flame Child

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Lupe drove. She didn't know where she was going, but still she drove. The Mustang whined because she did not shift gears. The street was wet from a night rain and if…

Notes to the Dead

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The kind of poem poets write and read. I mean, hey I was feelin’ it HARD at 3:24 am, and this is what spilled out.

Probability of Rain

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haiku

The Fly On Our Pickle

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I think I know that fly That fly followed us from our apartment on W. 11th St When I opened the door he flew right in and when we left, he flew right out again Followed us on the subway to Times Square Took the Shuttle apparently Followed

Modes of Motion

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I saw an ocean drained and filled / at the flats of Saemangeum.

The Immunodeficiency Of Our Collective Hearts

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a set of 4 poems