Most read stories

Ordering Chinese

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And I'm usually soft-spoken.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 55

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The rising sun was hidden from his eyes by the hips of the woman next to him in the bed.

Tomorrow

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On the febrile edge

Le Petit Clown - August 9, 2002

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Bald on top and wavy curls projecting from both sides. He looked at me and his eyes rolled round and round in opposite directions. He asked, "What did you think of the play, clown hater?"

They know about fish

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A debacle has been scheduled for 11:45...

Sic Transit

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He was that famous actor—now famously forgotten—most renowned for his exits. He could burst through an in or out door with the best of them. Better than the best of them; he was the best of them. With the subtlety of his often noisy art he could…

Tuna Casserole

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I remember when I pulled in the way the car door sounded When it yawned open. I think it may need some oil. In the dress you just bought, With one golden flip flop dangling from Your big toe -- The other under the bench, you told me. "We'll be having a …

For One Coach, "Wranting" Isn't Writing

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"The editors at Travel & Leisure are more interested in perks from advertisers than the survival of the human race.”

Maybe Just One More Then

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You don't deserve this poem and I don't deserve to write it. Whatever time we have left is way better spent sitting in a sunny garden with a good interesting book and with a beautiful golden delicious apple to bite into. But…

Girls

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Every boy on the boardwalk stared when she and Rosa walked by, everyone of them had their sweet wet dream about the Dominguez sisters.

Stumbling Grace

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I'm not sure if my heart is breaking Or attacking Like an aged lovesick romantic with a faulty beat, I sense a valve needs replacing But only after the main artery has been sutured and made whole By a seasoned and skilled Midwest surgeon in a…

Wednesday

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“Goodnight,” he said before leaving the room and shutting his bedroom door behind him. She stood in the kitchen alone now, a shot of vodka poured into a shot glass, and a bottle of coke ready to swig afterwards. This didn't make her an alcoholic…

Reflector

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I circled about six times - mesmerized by the sign that said you needed socks. Just passing through it said - As I made my third pass I thought - well, aren't we all.You looked cold. Fragile. And younger than the wrinkles that engulfed your hands, neck…

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 .

The Enabler

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I still see you lying on the tracks

Little Max

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“It’s not a bad preschool. You kinda get used to it. You ever been to one before?” Little Max asked the new boy, Sam. Sam shook his head no.

Ok, ok, so I concede

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Ok, ok, so I concede some answers are enough to make you cry or laugh yourself to death.

The Generosity of Perishable Objects

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"As soon as you're born, they make you feel small."--John LennonI cannot do anything about how beautiful you are, my sour flower, but I can tell you this much: Joni Mitchell is better than all the cowards in the world. They all chose to somehow…

passing in, passing out

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I hate turnstiles and revolving doors

The Virus

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It all felt so tentative, he thought. The whole set up. Running water. Electricity. A vast network of instant communication. Food in all the stores. It was the latter that gave him the most concern. He'd never really been hungry. Even in his poorest days, in his early…

moms

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a few Hershey's Kisses tucked in with the note

AND I WILL REMAIN AS CAUTIOUS AS EVER

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We’re on the phone dead battery & I want this to last forever. The last thing I want to do is make decisions.

My Wife, the Registry of Motor Vehicles

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We’ve been married for 24.1667 years now and–well–my wife was starting to remind me of a public building. The Registry of Motor Vehicles, to be precise.

Sonnet II

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When gratitude on lovers' lips rings false/ As flattery by courtly sycophants,/ Take care to well distinguish gold from dross/ So as to gild gladder remembrances.

break

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i just seem to be stuck is all

On Strike in the City

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The first day of the Steamfitters and Pipewranglers Local 175 strike was exhilarating. Every man (accurate; there were no women in the union) showed his support outside the Willgarden High Rise Corporation's company headquarters on Fifth Avenue, shaking unreadable signs…

Below the Surface of Things

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the heartbeat, the pulse of the darkened earth

People's Park at Night

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“You got a cigarette, man?” “Hey, mister, you got a cigarette?” “You got a cigarette, mister?” “Hey, mister, you listening to me? You got any spare change?” The voice was coming from the…

Drought

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Everything is at sixes and sevens.

strapped to the mast

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The light streaming out of the background of things, in the absence of memory. That’s what I’m talking about. Prepare to let out all your light from night until dawn, if you want to be in the middle of life. I never wanted to stay at the edges. It didn’