Most read stories

Storytime with E. E. Zulkoski

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...afraid of cancer, fire, floods, famine, being audited by the IRS....the list goes on and on....

Europa Sonnets - Interstice 1

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Interstice 1 Carved apart for Zion, set against a void,The wrecking dell of yet the Second War,Does Operation Hellstorm fill the floorOf still the firestormed ballroom? We forsworeOur filiality in killing you, and EidBells the invasion's consummation: and besideThe…

and now for the news ...

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nope. no excerpt for you.

Toys For Tots

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Every year at the orphanage, a new trend sprouted fully grown from a Sears Christmas catalog, and even though our belief in Santa Claus was dashed early on, we still loved the season because it meant a Paint by Number, Pogo stick, Hula Hoop or whatever…

Saul Lies, 33

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Saul Lies, 33 and uneager to lift his head off of the hair grease stained pillowcase that absorbed his mental anguish most nights, stayed in bed past noon

Untouched By Me, Alas!

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Another run-in with the police happened one night in Elmhurst. I was seeing this girl I'd met in my Shakespeare night class at Elmhurst College. She and I and Andy and a friend of hers, I think, were parked in front of her house, drinking a six pack of beer when her…

Bums of the Bird World

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Yeah, okay, so pigeons are the bums of the bird world So what are a flock of crows working over a wheat field while the artist Vincent is desperately trying to live with his bleeding ear or to sell at least one painting during

Lester Young, Grand Daddy of Cool

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Young is credited with the first use of “cool” as a expression of approval, and he embodied the concept in his life and in his playing. His only problem was he was born too soon, in 1909.

Soliloquies of the Interior Zombies

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My inner shape must be a ruin of organs,/ dead or dying. But do come close enough/ for me to hear. I need to know your story.

Not Waving but Shivering

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Skullcap of crabs. Will you record it as it rips clean?

roses, a dozen

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I know I shouldn’t brag, but you bought me roses, a dozen. I felt I could balance anywhere, when I was with you. I could achieve poise on the head of a pin. There was no need to hide anything, and I heard night music wherever we went. I sat with lovers,

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 42

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If I start getting rambunctious, put me in a cab.

The Squirm

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[DON'T FORGET TO PARTY!]

The Kid on the Floor

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The kid on the floor couldn’t handle it...

Fire Bug

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She was outside the house with one of her unlit cigarettes dangling from those chapped lips, she was carrying the can of kerosene and wearing a pair of red Mary Jane shoes, even her footwear smacked of violent drawing mystery.

Another Crumb of Freedom

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I think I know these pigeons They were once beggars From another life Once I myself was stuck like them I was never Without the thought of food Or sex, or sipping soda pop Off the sidewalk And flying meant next to nothing But then

A Guy's Guy Kind of Guy

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I like to keep my mind uncluttered for truly fresh information, like the fact that T.S. Eliot taught Virginia Woolf the Chicken Strut. That's news you can use.

Flavor of Law

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It’s funny how white people are so reluctant to reveal their ignorance of hip-hop culture. “There are a number of robust on-line tools that can assign randomly-generated rap nicknames to members of the federal judiciary,” I told him.

Searching

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The sun was bright, warm and blew through my hair like the wind.

Incantatory Plea to the Civic on Interstate 75

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May the timing belt stand the stress again

The Circumcised Heart

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You shall hear, against your ear, the beating of a circumcised heart.

Street Lamp

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An old man leaning over his stamp collection. His burning face glows with bourbon. Underneath, children try to stretch moments. Each toss of the ball, turn of the handlebars a deliberate time shaping exercise to see how much distance they can…

Do Unto Buzz

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I parked an outhouse in Buzz's front yard late last night and blew it up. I suppose I should feel bad, but I don't. In fact, I think I strained something trying not to laugh out loud as I watched the contents of the crapper spatter all over the front of B

Day Seven

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Once again, I start the engine.

Your words.

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Your words are Ambien.

Splitting

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Crunching gravel beneath my feet, the sound of approaching death.

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.

HEARTTHROB SERIES

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And when you come back, you work minimum wage and have water cooler sex and your face is no more than archives.

Remembering Conway

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But you can have a lap dance.

Was Is

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Life is stained-glass evinced in some Holy place, colorful and mysterious, Crosscut with gashes of lead veins.