Most read stories

Remembering Conway

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But you can have a lap dance.

Wildfire

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

The Watcher

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the dark brown cloaked warden stands on his lofty perch

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

He Is Not Gone

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Since then I have come to feel his absence and feel that it might be time to try and write about this again. I used to spend a great deal of time managing things on facebook for a very large group with over 10,000 members. While some might not understand

Help Us Locate Ourselves

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dove from the trenches, double-check

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—

Beach Tale

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I should have worn shorts.

Rocking the Oldies: A Cautionary Tale

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We didn't know what what we were reading meant. We didn't even know if we were reading it right. In fact, we suspected that we probably were not.

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…

Out of sync

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I've been floating dearadriftI could not see you clearlythrough the tattered, hazy scrim the boundary between usmight as well have been a canyonyou reached for me anda vice tightenedaround my headI wanted to merge with youmy heart wished for abrilliant explosion of limb…

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.

The Jewelry of Yaks

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It’s too early in the morning to play the glockenspiel. I’ll just sit here and knit this tiger.

Classic

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"I love you.”“Night.”Back at the screen door she answers “What?” I stand under her nose and say “Box is out of juice.” Inside she sits me on the black and white polka-dotted sofa we make love around here and there.…

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

Error Bars

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Is death like standing in a room at night and turning off the lights? You would still hear your breathing. You hold your breath. Silence. Darkness. Yet you feel gravity, your feet on the floor. Then the air brushes your skin. Remove the air,…

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.

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—

Pahk Your Kahma in Hahvahd Yahd

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“Namaste,” I say as I hand the guy his ticket. “The divinity within me salutes the divinity within you. Have a nice freaking day.”

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

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.

How Many Remain

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how many lighted days remain

The Dork Shoe

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A strange man tapped my door and held up the shoes for me to see. “It is the Dork Shoe,” he said. I looked past him at his dusty station wagon filled with boxes. “I have your size right here.” I observed the halo of his gray hair as he…

Knock Knock

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The bad moods crash the door down like an overzealous SWAT team and wreck the furniture. The good moods arrive unannounced.

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.

If You Trace Even One of My Words

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with a finger I will (let you) know. If you mean even just one given look at the moon I will know that, too. If you peel off one lonely star and put that shining shell in your watch pocket for later or to skip across your sad …

The Sticking Point

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I felt dark, dark...

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…

picture (im)perfect

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not