Most read stories

End Game

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Where the Story LiesEverybody wants to knowwhere the story lies. Does itlie in childhood? Does it liein old age? Does it lie in anangry outburst or a stingingrebuke? Does it lie in a momentof compassion or in the recognitionof calloused selfishness? Bruisedlove or…

The Roses of Gettysburg

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Mothers and sons and war, an old story...

Be Careful What You Wish For

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I got my new dog today, a toy terrier, as advertised, from an online retailer, and printed him or her, I’m not sure which, because of an inherent glitch built into the system, on my new 3-D printer,

Christmas Potluck

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"I see how little kids might find you creepy," she says between red velvet bites...

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…

Butterfly Morning

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We woke up and we were whirlpools of spilt turquoise oil / with wings for flying

Speculation on the Quantum Mechanism of Death

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With whatever else physicists may learn . . . perhaps they will begin to see that the connections between the physical world and non-physical domains of existence have an explanatory power which has only barely been considered.

Snap, Crackle & Pop!

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snap

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

2 Haiku

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We’re heading to a Poetry reading when my wife Says “You owe me one” Coming back from the Poetry reading, my wife says “You owe me, big time”

Son

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Trenches coated with man-gruel laced the earth.

ORPHANS

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They wait for me every morningthese two furry four legged catswhen they hear my car,their eyes open wide and they nuzzle each otherin anticipationof the food I bring them

Tendrils

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you stand ashore

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

Christ's Fingertips

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they could be barefoot bastard children for somebody else to clothe

MUNDO MUERTE

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Meagan rides the subway with perfect lips and deep thoughts, looking moody out the smudged window like an actress in a Sofia Coppola film.

My First Winter in Massachusetts

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My first winter in Massachusetts feels medieval: cold, dark, and endless.

Dear A. Lien

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Time is a form of sandwich. Each component of the sandwich is nestled between night and day, which enclose it like slices of bread. There are minutes, hours, and seconds. Seconds are tiny, like sesame seeds. Minutes are a little larger. Think of them as p

To Sleep

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The woman wrings her hands again and again, reaching up to place one under her chin, then to her cheek as though there is some pending trepidation no one else can see...

FULL NEST

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Every time I look at you there are two dumb mouths that slip between stretch marks.

And then we... Part 2

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The way I figure it, mom wasn't worth a shit. I'd cry when she hit me but she'd just keep pounding. When I was seven, she burned a hole in my back. It happened one day at the fair. We were walking around. She didn't have any money so all we could do was walk. I had…

Release My Pajamas

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And then I heard “Yea, for I have seen the Father The Son, and the Holy Toast” Okay now, something up was weird

The Image is Exact in my Mind but the Frame Keeps Moving Around

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That morning in the driving rain a sequence of automobiles appeared on the streets in the region with headlights in the form of television monitors

Robots in the Workplace

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A Boston company has created a humanoid robot named “Baxter” that performs manufacturing tasks and gets a confused look on its face when it needs something.

Masquerade III

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. . . he's of mixed race. Along with European blood, he's got Mexican Indian and African blood. Here's the irony. He don't look nothing like a white European man but he thinks like one.

Something like A Dark Knight

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Rob was having a hard time of it. His whole life was like that-- in and out of jail for assault, robbery and selling drugs. He tried to go straight. A career counselor, had set him up, with a job in a warehouse. But he just couldn't…

Excelsior - A poem in 9 parts (Post 5 of 5)

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VIII. Towards Affinities, Beyond My love, since I saw you last, since before we reached the chamber, I cannot count the quasars which have passed, but there still gleams Time, Like a memory of a lost event unwitnessed, and this illusion Carried…

Hospice Valediction

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youthful pin oaks grant solemn attention to the aluminum gurney

Winter Queen

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Love is

Dialysis

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On the days I wasn’t there, my insides felt like paper-mâché.