Most read stories

Payments

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What it was for, didn’t matter. When Susan walked into Fred’s house every few weeks and start talking, he’d just nod and say, “Sure, I know how tough it is out there, baby.” Then they’d drink some wine and put on some music, and he’d give her a little mon

Pacific

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this orient tide come occident: this roll of wreck and reckoned eyes that fathomless are found or made to find her keep within the tight shut shell in soundings deeper than the plumblined soul these western waves gone east: these…

Me and Frisco on the Road

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I don't think I minded so much watching the trucks hit him, one breaking his spine with a decisive snap, and the other finishing the job by splitting his skull. I don't think I minded watching as much as I did watching those two boys poking around at his

Sunday Evening, 4:23AM

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The rhythm of my breathing is a litany of regret.

missing glory

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i found her world cluttered and noisy, a place where logic frowns

Burying the Tramp

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Heaven and hell. Hadley believed in neither. One way or another you’re a meal ticket for someone, best to be the one spending than the one being spent. The worms and insects are getting their meal ticket now, that’s for sure.

The Immunodeficiency Of Our Collective Hearts

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a set of 4 poems

The Man Behind the Curtain

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I find it more fun to be a pirate

Lights Out in the Ardennes

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Once with the lights flickering....

Omens

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The rain falls soft after a hard weekend.

Oddities

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Sometimes he would get up at night, go outside, and stand in the middle of their back yard.

Acid Flashback #2

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I'm transfixed in Tower Records,all the CD covers dancinglike a thousand little TV screens.Your whispers a remote controlchanging those flickering images.When security asks us to leave,you drive my car as I slumpagainst the window.I close my eyes and transport usStar…

The Answer at the Bottom of the Stairs

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She knew she had missed a step as her body rolled down the stairs. Panic set in as the world flew by her at lightening speed. Would she survive?

What Happened To The Rain Dance?

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The water quality will give you a hint

Ai Kitano

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Sick of sight, Ai Kitano constructed glasses by which the wearer was rendered totally blind.

Sunday Morning Series- 6: I Love You, Man, but Hate Your God

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But if He makes you happy, stands/ as bulwark against the vast, indifferent/ and deadly universe, then cling to Him

Puppet X, 8

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After too much I had forgotten how to fly. There was a small owl with me on the old dirt road by the wind. It was a very dark gray, like an ash. Its beak moved, it opened and shut, opened and closed, but I had also forgotten the language

Let's All Go Down to the Rising River

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As the pastor of a small southern church, I'm often asked by our younger members about this prickly notion of global warming. They herd around me, as adolescents are prone to do, and they ask me, “Dear father, is this something that we should fear, these…

With Nothing Here But Me I Begin

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to unwind looking for the answer.I confess I wasn't so discreetas life demanded, laughing like anowhere poet. Nothing relieved thegod awful boredom. Many times Iconfess I hadn't really takenthe vitamins, crying like a courtjester thrown into a dungeon onmarket day, and felt…

Rock the Rhombi

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This is the place you need a third hand

Edward Ogle the Second

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doomsday kittens

He's All Man--And He's All Mine

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My man’s got a habit that’s kinda strange. I’ve got a feeling he’s never gonna change. Whenever I take a trip, when I git back, my underwear’s ripped.

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…

Cakewalk

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She could estimate herself around 30, though this was debatable since she had stopped counting years ago. She looked like a person who would be very pretty if she wore make-up, but she didn’t and therefore wasn’t.

Handicapping the Saints

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I've been a fan of hagiography—the lives of the saints—since first grade when Claude Dunham and I were asked to represent St. Stephen and St. Sebastian, two martyrs of the early church, in a tableau vivant of bored boys.

Lunch, daily.

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She’s not settling. She can learn to like this.

Blood In Heaven

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She felt the ants crawling across her arms, felt them digging into her flesh. The needle was still attached to her flesh, bruises lined along the stretch of skin. Her body convulsed until she slipped into slumber. The following morning she could no longer continue her self…

August and After Haiku

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The brown grackle chirps/ as she chomps a plump cricket-/ melodious meal.

Each Planned to Kill the Other

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What was heinous about it was how easy I assumed it would be. That was truly heinous, and it was a mistake in the end to think of it that way. But I’ve learned from what’s heinous. I’ve bought a plastic cylinder filled with nylon zip ties. They’re great f

Get Thee to a Nunnery

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I was in a nunnery wondering how I wound up in the midst of so many nuns as it wasn't my nature to hang out with nuns. I find them tedious and redundant, though I do have to say I appreciate their economy with words. You never really saw a…