Most read stories

At the back of the crowd

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They were all celebrating something, but she couldn’t see what it was.

L.A. Blonde

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Then there was Marsha, the blonde bombshell, at Irvine, who slept over one night only. As in the original one night stand, your standard L.A. blonde beach-girl bombshell ex-cheerleader tear your heart out and spit it as far as she could. Wrench your bal

Mail from the Ungrund: A Tardy Preamble

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nevertheless, this crowd had come up with a universal cure for humanity, and regardless of consequences . . .

Driving in Jeddah

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In suburban Jeddah magnificent houses on every corner of the avenues are surrounded by high walls rising up from just inside the roadside curb to much beyond taller than a man.

He'd Risen Up

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“Where did this come from?” Greenblatt snapped as he pulled a pamphlet from his coat pocket with the words “Jews for Jesus” on it.

Babel

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As if reaching for the Divine was the problem

women in labor

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I am like a spice in wind, warm and gentle on the face, a reminder of your youth, tried and true. Lick the trapped silk from my soul, is all I am saying, with your high language. Get the core out of me and turn it under your tongue. Why shouldn't the egg

Sulfur and Wishes

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Some mornings he would wake up with his hand in the curve of her side. But her scent would awaken him further to his reality. This was not his wife. No, the women he vowed to protect was asleep in the arms of another.Lost to adultery, his dreams fell to…

air hugs

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but all I can give them now are air hugs

Molly

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Molly stared at the woman behind the desk with a headset attached to her head, and sighed.

Wolf Moon

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Keeper of the balance. Husband of the night.

Intensive Seminar Helps Cat Poets Sharpen Their Claws

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With a notch in his ear from an honor-mad fight And a tail that is shorter than at last sunlight.

Wipe That Smile

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One thing about eating shit:

A Prayer for Adelaide

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Any God we could respect/ would listen, kind, to prayers,/ compassionate but resolute –

Sequence Instead of Services on Sunday

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We reach for things and objects// made of ever smaller things and objects

Barbed Wire

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The end of love is a rusty barbed-wire fence.

Soil.

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As individual as a shadow and the opposite of ‘stone faced’, Sidney Elvin “Ike” Liebowitz, with a clean-shaven face, well kempt hair and sideburns a quarter of an inch off of his ears, walks down a dirty and dimly lit street pondering sneakers.

Misanthropy in an Age of Propaganda

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We have become// the sum of our appetites,/ the growth curve of our dominion.

Remembering Conway

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But you can have a lap dance.

Botanical Maneuvers

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They hunger for new real estate/ and those resources underground

I Had a Dream

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I was born into a perpendicular world I held Vertigo in my arms once And gave her a good squeeze That she just couldn’t get out of her head Then she would follow me around the perimeter Where my breath was being held Against my will Ah,

Cutty Sark

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A sense of plenty courses through

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

Jim

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Jim twisted the skinny trunk of his body in a fast, violent jerk just as the cop grabbed the buckle of his left Harley Davidson boot. When the boot flopped off, Jim found himself sitting upright, ready to jump up and run. But then he felt the baton lock down on his…

Flight

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They’re friends, him and Sissy and Raul, you know, and live upstairs from Asa and he went up there. He kept texting me saying, B here all night, follow u 2 airport. Yelled down through the floor. Real crazy shit.

Puke

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What the fuck is that smell? Puke? Pine-Sol? Oh shit!Back seat of a cop car.Again?What is it this time?“Excuse me, officer? Where the fuck are my clothes?”

from: A Body Divided

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When I came back home, after coming down with polio, everything had changed for me. I'd been gone for forty-five long days and nights. But it was Halloween, a time very nearly sacred for children in the Midwest, and it brought out the charity of the who

Living on Non-Skid Row

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Here’s the local group of grumpy gray-haired men Chewing over politics as if it’s important As if their endless discussing of it, Waving their hands in the air, gesturing, Is going to change the world How do these guys stop from having heart a

Winter-Love in a Dark Corner

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. . . making a little winter-love, in a dark corner.

The January Oak

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tiny banners, browned/ and wrinkled by time,