Most read stories

The Woman on the Train

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When I awoke she was there again, the woman with the blue scarf. She was standing by the compartment door, gazing out at the passing countryside, the rolling hills of France. I had seen her before, at the market buying flowers, outside a cafe hailing a taxi,…

Lotis

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1A voice scratches her ear: Come here, petal.Later: …

Voice of the Past

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You are about to experience a voice from the past. Here we go ... jet back to about 1964. I remember you with the same beard (just a different color!) and slightly longer hair. I remember drinking lots of beer and wine in your basement with Shel

Blind Spots

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He was twisted...

Unnamed

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The child was delivered, set to breathing, and whisked away before Fae Anne could even catch a glimpse of her.

Twentieth Century Chats, in Six Acts

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M. CALLAGHAN: I’ve got a lot on my mind. You’re drunk, aren’t you? COL. MORD: Good idea! DEATH: Well, there is no shame in that. J. KIDDING: Everyone suffers. Can you lend me your cat? T. BURKULAR: I don’t know, sir. I don’t follow political issues .

Cold, wet and dreary.

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Cold, wet and dreary.The three words that describe Belgium. A country that owns so little identity. Sure, there are the mussels, beer, wafels and chocolate ... But that's about as far as it goes. The lack of identity rules the country, grayness rules the horizon. And…

passing in, passing out

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I hate turnstiles and revolving doors

A Flap and a Flutter from a Belfry

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After our visit to Phoenix and following our inspection of the Grand Canyon, our seminary octet continued its twelve-thousand mile sojourn across the country as a quintet.

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.

Blueprint for a tale

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Remove with care, then slowly lay the string, wide well-soaked end at left-hand edge, to start, and allow to curve, to bend, to almost loop and wind its way at rest across the mottled, patterned green

Seventy

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She was a rich widow who lived down the street.

I Know You, Ladies and Gentlemen

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On my way home that first night, I stopped off at a liquor store on San Pablo Avenue and bought a semi-expensive ($2.98) bottle of zinfandel, a real luxury for us. But I figured I would have a paycheck coming and wanted to celebrate my getting a real jo

Blackout

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forsake glass; structure; light; the impermanence of here, or there, or you, or i.

Hitler's Younger Brother, the Mohel

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And now for a word from Hitler’s Younger Brother, the Mohel Well, half brother really He was always such an embarrassment to the Hitler family Always climbing the infinite tree of hope Against the permanent limb of gravity No gratitude or all

The Emancipated One

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The town was wet from storms and the church was full while the priest gave an exegesis. The world outside did not bother with words or cleverness busy as it was with the real wisdom of its own natural cycles. During the night before, many sheets of rain arrived…

Dead Bear

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Most likely, the dead bear would be such a mind-fuck for the building crew that they’d probably just remove it quietly. There could be fines and reports and loads of paperwork involved…news would spread and inspections would follow. Yep, they would probab

Valentine query

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Did I flirt first?

karmic youth

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We were so easy, so willing to be drained, that to start making those puffed-up stories about us now, our courage, etc. would be purely misleading. Put a bottle, or glass of wine in our hand, and our panties flew off, and gladly we would have followed y

Earthquake 4.0

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I thought the dog was up to someting.

The Party and the Body

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The Party and the Body The party at my mother's ended Saturday night deep into Sunday's morning. I tried to remember the exact circumstances of the end but although they wouldn't come it didn't worry me. I knew I would remember at a certain point. It…

Arrivals and Departures

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Because of her I got there early, and like I figured, the train was late.

GULLS, GULLS, GULLS

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"The shipyards of the soul do not exist." The Colussus has always been a colossal waste, and the riddle of Your Father's Identity confounds no one but yourself. What a riddle, what pills! He was known for…

No.

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i try/to get/up but you prove/your strength.

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…

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…

The Fruitless Resuscitation

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I was sent here to perform the autopsy on the norm, the status quo, the bourgeois.

Answers Without Questions

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My father did not die before I was born. That much I can cite as not only fact but an absolute necessity to my existence. However, my father is dead. You can wrap as much sentiment and emotion around it as you wish, but you can't get away from the blunt…

Act Of Contrition

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I haven’t written a poem in months.

Buena Vista Street

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Nostalgia is when memories turn into Gods of knowing who you were.