Most read stories

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.

Saturdays with Satan

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You know what's wrong with Hell these days? Do ya? It's too fucking corporate. Too commercial.

A Hundred Feet

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Why I roamed these flats, choir-Like floors of a century forgivenAnd wedded in an XXL gownIs beyond us. Give me something extra, please. This Town rides in like a school bus.

The Enabler

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I still see you lying on the tracks

A Return to Silence

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Instead we dunked the men in vats of grease and boiling water. Instead we tore apart the books from which they emerged. Instead we found the graves of their mothers and detonated bombs.

Day Seven

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Once again, I start the engine.

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.

Won’t You Be My Neighbor

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I passed the Crouching Tiger Qui Gong dojojo with Suntory Dagdibolbishon.

Whenever I am

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alone and soaring in your eyesanother new journey for mebegins; my lifewants to make sense ofitself only for you, goingdeeper, hand youthe keys to that kingdom'srare maps and say,here,"fly, dream, fall to love'slake." You deserve it all.I swear…

Robin Eggs

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"The sheriff's mother-in-law made the smoothest 'shine in the county."

Of Poems About Figs and Farts

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When Prince Rainier III asked an expert whether there was a literature of Monaco, her research produced only a suggestive ode to a fig and a poem about a fart.

When I Met Sally

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When I met Sally I was all Unsuspecting Of what powers Might be found In this world and In a woman.

The words you are known by: To Mitt Romney on the eve of his national convention, a cento

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I'll tell you what, Rick, ten-thousand bucks? [But] let Detroit go bankrupt. I'm running for office for Pete's sake,

The End

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"Tell me what you remember."

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?"

A Way of Place

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There are people walking, not knowing where they are, a way to peace is just that-- a place to go.

Foster's Landing

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my stomach is empty, but it is my eyes that are hungry

A State of Affairs

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We could act the anthropologist.

Suspicious Activity

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I go down to pick up R and get a cartridge of black ink for the printer. It's an extremely pleasant summer day — early afternoon — and the air is exemplary: clear and sweet. So far so good. But as soon as I park and go to a nearby cash machine the fun begins.…

Beauty Fell Through the Roof

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Yet tenderness resided here among the canvases, the tubes of paint, brushes, and candle wax; the splatters of discarded ideas. We made love the way people said prayers

Opportunity Cost

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What else could I be doing right now,Besides lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling,Looking for patterns in the colors and lines on the tiles?Looking for you,Immobilized,Succumbed to the siren song you sing.Lured to slavery,Yet you are free,Wild,Unable to be…

He's So Pretty I'd Dump My Boyfriend For Him

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I remember when we first met, telling my friends, He’s so pretty I’d dump my boyfriend for him. I remember driving all around Elmhurst looking for parking. We sat in the car eating figs and popcorn. We tried to throw the fig pits or stumps, or wh

gravelortian part 13

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Upon further investigation two soldiers were found

Rest In Peace

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Gone he is in his designated place Just resting in peace while I barely move on

birdbrain

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feathered flightless freak of nature

Falling

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She lets the book drop through her fingers to the floor and stares straight ahead watching the red lights streak by in the darkness. The train rocks her away from the seat and back; she rolls her spine along the plastic to absorb the motion, taking it away from…

A Day In The Life

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I stood at a workbench for eight hours a day, scraping various shapes and bits of metal fresh from the machinist’s press, plotting my escape.

break

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i just seem to be stuck is all

Below the Surface of Things

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the heartbeat, the pulse of the darkened earth

More L.A. Stories from the Land of One Night Stands, #3

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and lie down naked in my bed on her back, with her hands frozen at her sides like a deflowered virgin in the Gauguin painting “The Loss of Virginity,” almost breastless, and wait for me to lick her sopping until she almost came, but she could never quite