Most read stories

Christ's Fingertips

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they could be barefoot bastard children for somebody else to clothe

BORDER JUSTICE

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CHAPTER ONE About nine-thirty P.M. on Friday night, Mary Fowler pushed her grocery cart through the double sliding glass doors. It was three weeks before Christmas. The sun had set and the temperature had begun to cool rapidly in…

sirens

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I know what that coast was like, where you went. A coarse country filled with malodorous women that sang from the shores. Groups of nine stripped to the waist. Some with braids hanging down their back. Garden beauties. Visual porticos, with their floral

Snap, Crackle & Pop!

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snap

Superheroes

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I change things without notice for himto make sure he's ready for the corporate world. It's no longer our goal to watch cartoonswe must now focus on breakfastthenaction figures. "But Daddy," he says. "I likecartoons." "I know it hurts," I say."But…

Visions

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colors dancing on metric vectors

Why I Gave Up on Math and Began My Big Fat Writing Career

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I’d met this crowd of drunken poets from San Francisco Even though this was smack dab in the middle of winter Smack dab in the middle of the flattened Illinois plains Why they all left San Francisco I’ll never completely understand But there we we

A Few Images Illuminating the Difficulty of Being a Young, Talentless Writer in Manila

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A ten-ton bus with ill-manners going slow

Lunch, daily.

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

Sea of indifference

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Sea of indifference Coming and going Never committing Like a fickle lover that erodes a hopeful heart

The Oxymoronic Life of a Nearly Dead Woman

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I could have a minor stroke.

Deep Pond

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It wasn't the sun sparkling Or the dog of the neighbor Barking.

woke up in 2010//an exercise four years ago

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I am from slow diagnoses, impatience and parents skeptical of New York City doctors. I am from tall buildings, yogurt shakes, and envy for my brother's asthma machine. I am from here, stay away from there, don't get too close, be careful at the edge, the…

21

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The coach told the player, number 21, to stand in front of the net in order to distract the opposing team's goaltender and to block the view, to 'screen' him as it were. 21 did so, and did it well. There were defensemen that gave him much trouble by hitting his legs and…

Mr. Townsend Wakes Up

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Mr. Townsend is a normal guy. He's been on auto pilot a while. When he finally snaps out of it, he's surprised at what he finds.

Meet Your Happy-Go-Lucky Poet

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"Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore. You may not see me tomorrow."--Bob DylanThey're writing poems, but not for me. Guess I'll write one for my own. For nobody that I know now. It's a pretty lonely world for someone who sings, not you, not with…

Lost Poems

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The ride home after Basketball and a little beer; That's when the best poems happen. Poems pin-prick sharp Puncturing through dulled Senses while streetlamps pass Overhead. They find their way inside you But they don't stick. Poems left back somewhere On the…

For You

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Why should you go through that for me?

Ben Clarone: Prologue Part 3

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The urban-abused Chevy looked older than its seven years.

China

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Your words broke meLike a china vase dropped to the floorAnd though the pieces were recoveredStuck together with love and compassionThe cracks are there for those who lookI was happy to be there, content in that placeYou wanting to be somewhere elseNever telling me where…

Her Sunday Story

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She turned on the television. The newscaster was her husband. She changed the channel. Her husband interviewing her husband. She changed the channel. A baseball game. Her husband pitched to her husband who popped a fly ball which was caught by her husband

Good for the Gander

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“This isn’t fair!” I rail to my late wife. “It’s all right for you, why not me?” She never answers me directly. Not in whispers, or with knocks, or even dreams.

Better than Ever

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It was a beautiful spring day and Jeremy was bursting with joy at being alive.

Shenanigans 2 - Anticipation

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One Private View, four couples, not all of whom are adulterous.

Jam Sessions with Wannabe Rock Stars

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Hey Sledge! Yo. Did you know Socrates hated the idea of writing thoughts down? He said it weakened the memory…made us lazy. Say wha? That's why he never wrote a book. The only way we know about him is through his student Plato's writing. St

Orbital Mechanics/ National Poetry Month 2014/ 30 poems

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Captain Nemo never died./ He cruises all the seven seas/ below the waves in Nautilus 2,

Now

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I'm looking for the perfect/passage, a safe, sound/jettison to now.

Tethered

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Handsome are the houses,effigies in synthetic stucco: prosperity divinedbehind parted walls. Behold the ersatz simplicityof the residential subdivision, contrived construction inline and line and line. …

Confrontation on the field of play

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The boy wasn’t raised this way.

The Tragically Short Life of the American Barfly

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That is then and the devil reigns in the here and now. Tonight I am the barfly and tomorrow I die.