Most read stories

The Heart

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Oh, I cant stop singingThis human heart beatingWhat people say do not interest meAs much what goes on in their heartsThe heart is were they are really atNo matter what they saySome call it the IdSome call it the subconscious Some call in the willSome call it the…

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.

Totem Song

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Will you leave me, you, the one?

FIREWORKS

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It's eight fifteen in the morning, my favorite time to call, and a guy named Ernie DeCampo answers the door in his work pants and a t-shirt. “Good morning, Mr.De Campo,” I say. “Do you have any fireworks in your home?” …

The Passing of Odd Fellows ---- Tales From the IV

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The appointed day came without much fanfare. The day was gloomy, but it would do. They climbed to the roof of the house to a small landing where Smiley placed the tiny piano stool smack dab in the middle. As soon as Ethan sat down Smiley rotated the chair

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 45

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Rent yourself a decent place to live, one with a shower.

Four More Haikus

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Death is like a warmcup of hot cocoa, steamingup into nothing. The sun rise will bringprison bars of light through thebedroom blinds again. Sorry about thefirst three hours of your deathI thought you were drunk. Across the park thestrange dog looks…

You Can Push Things

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to the back of your mind like a box of unpacked yet beloved books if you want, but that's no life I want to explore any further with you. We don't have as much time as we once thought, to believe in something other than empty bottles lost in the…

Drunk, There are Cymbals for Everything

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On the way back from New Jersey this afternoon, my dad kept pressing “seek” on the radio dial so he could find WBLS, which we listened to last night, also on our way back from New Jersey. I was driving last night because I wanted to and because I think my dad…

Was Is

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

Will I Eventually Be Everybody?

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A jump, a fall, that's how it begins. I don't know much about living but dying I should have down to a science, if practice makes perfect. Death by burning as a withc (often) a warlock (not so much) a heretic (quite a bit, you'd be surprised--though, if you…

Tonschmerz

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Deists try to prove the existence of God. I do not doubt God nor evidence of the existence of Jesus nor Jesus' miracles. I merely wish there were more people like him

civilization

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pain and anger

luncheon on the grass

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I had a dream, I remember, where I am in this painting, Luncheon on the Grass. My dress was thrown off and the picnic basket, filled with bread and fruit, is spilled out upon it, and I am sitting nude on my underclothing, with two gentlemen fully dresse

Poetry & Poets

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“I’ve read your blog recently,” my friend told me over waffles and cold potato salad at 10PM, “and something strange is going on in there.”

Mike's Confession in the Basement to Being Allergic to Balls

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He arched an eyebrow.  He was "thinking" — a tricky thing to do, when you never read, even the newspaper.

The Process of Understanding (Strawberry Bees)

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Are all my words lonely, or nearly departed; decapitated; Visible only from the ankles down, nonchalant? I Get bored. All my words are not paying Strict attention to the television. I get dysfunctional. My words, coincidental though they…

Call to Action

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Everybody wake up and hold to those dreams you had of greatness and prosperity. Bring forth the hopes you had as a child of progressing to that ultimate goal of self-sufficiency. You are prepared for what lies ahead, the future belongs to us. Our finest…

a confession

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a pit-bull or a rottweiler or something like that

Spring Darkness In the Age of Video

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This spring darkness is winding around my neckin the age of video, how many times I've seen her at the zoowith your eyes, as if seeing for the first timeher early morning breath, tripping your woman, your angelas she arrived on the beach when it was still too dark to see…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 42

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

Life of a Dead Bird

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I have the idea but cannot find the words

Cache

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Could I cache your kisses?

Getting There

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Her light blue eyes fixed on a point to our left, past one of the church steeples poking out of the flat, charred ground – like a toothpick protecting a birthday cake from its cellophane ceiling; an untouched bethesda keeping the never-blue sky from crash

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.

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

Valentine query

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Did I flirt first?

NOLA's Nightcap

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I need to be commended, despite the wine glass that threw itself at your sister's head of rollers. Imagine a pear in the deli meat aisle ripening behind glass...

The Serendipitous Nature of Being

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To do the proper set up for the story, it was taking me some time, but each bit was important to the outcome, and while he likened me to Higgens on the old Magnum P.I. series, I just laughed at his slowly closing eyes and folded arm, caught in a half cur

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.