Most read stories

Requiem for a Laptop

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I don’t understand what happened. I keep pushing your buttons but you won’t do anything. You just lie there, cold and dead, staring back at me without any light and I feel like I’m going to cry.

Edward Ogle the Fifth

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Roaming beetles knitting needles chopstick counter attack.

Delicate

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I'm not plagued with high levels. Must be all the raking I do. My pubes look as lush as my hair, so fire isn't even a concern. Maybe heat exhaustion is.This might be a poem,My oceans aren't small.

An excerpt from "Goodbye, Baseball"

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The boys were his biggest nuisance. The unwashed guttersnipes poured into the park early, all shoeless and half shirtless. He only imagined how thick the fleas must be in their thick tangle of hair, of which only two didn’t have covered with a cap with an

Wish for the Left Hand

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Hardly a soul could pin him for creating the vehemence that found a streamule to her pen if she wrote in cursive or a fanjet to her keyboard if she typed quickly and satisfyingly in print, employing eight fingers and two thumbs—

picture (im)perfect

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not

cleveland

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The girl went outside her door and stood and stared at the sky.there were clouds in the sky. the girl wore glasses with black framesthe girl stared at the sky some more and put on a bright yellow baseball hatshe sat in a white resin chairthe girl sat quietly and watched the…

Ares Considers a Career Change

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Barbarians and savages wore feathers/ or frightful face paint or skin tones// one could recognize and aim for/ with weapons one could feel

Mr. Bourgeois Drowns His Sorrows

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Late last night down at Jim's Saloon Everyone expected that the last balloon Would go Boom! The one they all saw coming And Lady Liberty would send the bad guys running

Quel Bordel

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Our friend, M. Dieu-Juste partnered in a used car business with a Vietnamese mechanic, Mr. Tran. Cars however, were not their only venture.

Promenade

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At the week's end, memories may come to you Of weekends same as those just gone before, That fade away from seeing as a tide's grey flue, That vanishes once travelled to a shifting shore: Still, hope you'll know a girl for an hour anew, One who fades…

Falling Rocks in Equal Doses

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Not sure I remember what's important, but I remember you. That's the whole problem I think. You're a drain where all my words wind up going down. All of them get lost inside of you. Eventually. And I'm left with nothing to say. Because all my words are…

Fortune Favours

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We're all just meat and atoms who can no more sense into the great beyond than a horse can fly a plane.

gravelortian part 4

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rinse plate cup glass spoon bowl soapy water

Portrait without Birds

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so Tippi has no interest

Without Knowing It

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If this isn’t Paradise, what is?/ Your own eyes wide with/ the imagination, the knowing,/ the not-knowing of it all.

a random thought

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They shake, shake, while mouths say the words.

Fire

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I like burning lavender on glowing charcoal and dancing hard, thinking about long futures and deep moments. I want to cry and then scream and I don't feel like cleaning up. If I can keep a rhythm going long enough,I think I can build…

Rain Song at Summer’s End

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Soft rain, small rain, steady rain— what the shrubs and tangled young red oak tree need—

Fun With Death at the Funeral Directors Convention

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“How about licensed-character theme funerals for kids who die young?” I asked, broaching a sensitive subject. “Do you think they’re”–I hesitated–”a money maker?”

they came to explain the wind

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How we segued from exploring the wind to eating a nitwit sandwich.

Love in the Nick of Time

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a dance in the moonlight

Condimental

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"Excuse me, ma'am? You wanted the mayonnaise on the side, right?"No one ever called her ma'am again.

Things I Like To Do When I Don't Feel Like Doing Anything

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Run up and down the hill shouting Hollywood! Hollywood! Hollywood! Order a penis size enhancer for everyone in the neighborhood. Invent theorems for the unrivalled glory of eggnog. Get drunk on utter futility. Pack my favorite suitcase with tree bark…

Wildfire

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Those resting in clusters of bones, Cradled in ashes of what once were homes.

Wind Calling

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Listening to old friends speak the same way, the same things tells me they have been dead a long time. They are in their form of living, their self, there is no new season of growth. I witness each of them continue on the same path because it is familiar

Along the Battlement

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We creep the hill, flat on our bellies through yellowed grass and stone, black dirt grimed on our bright faces like powdered war paint. We are sitting ducks as we approach, out in the open like this but Cobb believes no one will be watching this side; it

The Sadness of Being On Line and (Bonus Extra!) The Driver

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He had to get over the short bridge

1

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That evening, my friend and I were at a McDonalds'. It was late in the evening, and we got together after she sent me a text message she meant to send to someone else. I got a burger. She got fries.

Fish Tales

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Billy's days were much like his yesterdays, with little hope the ones to come would be any different.