Most read stories

Making Waves in Sculptural Math

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It was a summer full of rage and discontent. The air had a new taste to it, reminiscent of the tang of battery acid.

Shameful Maneuvers

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Most of the boys I pretended to marry thought my classroom seductions were funny, but there is a chance that one of the boys turned violent against me.

Below the Surface of Things

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the heartbeat, the pulse of the darkened earth

Bundle of Nerves

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Testing how well he navigates She didn't think he would find it

Scrambled Eggs and Sympathy Cards

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We spent that entire winter with shaky hands and shrunken egos.

Josh and the Elder

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A cruel reminder of his irrelevance to the world of law, a world he had probably ruled for over 40 years.

The Roses of Gettysburg

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Mothers and sons and war, an old story...

Work of a Reader

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Then it gets worse—this reading of books—I go to the café and can only read a minimalist there, one crouton at a time.

Just Before the Funeral

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We had been on the way to the church when we found them. The handkerchief in my breast pocket was folded just so and I'd tried to recreate the perfect ribbon in Ashley's hair, …

Good LAWD does that look like Malarky!

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Tough shit if it looks like shit I heard that voice say as I reviewed my blog...How ya gonna fix it, stop and see every time ya write a line? Well FUCK YOU anyway! That's what my A.D.D. said - WOW! DID YOU SEE THAT?! - as it perched upon one shoulder, overlooking…

Silly Sad Sausage

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(...) Suddenly there is a tram passing by and kills the Sausage (...)

The Squirrel that Ate Cincinnati

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The drug that brought me here is orange and opposable as a thumb. Therefore, send me a dollar and I will swim in your beautiful gaze like a new experience. We can be caviar together and create metaphors for the stars.

The Book

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“Are you comparing the communists with Hitler?” “Are you telling me there is no comparison?"

Kegel Exercise

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1.It was unfair to my time and my small kitchen rug that it took me two days to finish reading Meg Pokrass' “The Big Dipper,” pp. 10-12

Particle (7)

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By the time he says “I am tired of the smell of pig shit and death” you’ve already lost interest

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.

War Garden

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From the home front....

Art Survives

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Forget the salt erasure of Carthage,/ all the Meso-American artifacts/ smelted to float the Armada

Listen to the Wind

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Long ago, when I was a child, like you, my grandfather told me about the wind. He pointed to a willow whose branches were dancing in the breeze and asked me what I heard. “Just the wind,” I answered. He smiled and ran his hand acr

A State of Affairs

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We could act the anthropologist.

headaches not worth having

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this is one of those "there are two kinds of people" sort of things.

From Day One

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On the first night I met you, you fell in love with the waitress. She had a loud voice and a strong Irish accent. She wore an oversized t-shirt to minimize her large breasts, and baggy jeans. No makeup; crooked teeth. But you…

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…

bienvenue (a poem)

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if you lost your list on your way here i will help you get what you came for.

Poppy Seeds

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It might have had something to do with the boy’s pet hog, which was hulking, ageless, and liked eating poppy seed muffins

It's My Life

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Look, “Wolfie,” (or “Pharaoh,” or whatever your name is now) a little too much information, don’t you think? I don’t need to hear all the details about you and Sharon. It’s my life, and I’ll cry if I want to – to alter the song just a

Stop It!

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Don’t shout. Be nice Cheer up. Sit up Straight. Don’t play With your food. Elbows Off the table. Watch Your language. Use Your napkin. Eat the Crust Stop fidgeting Stop scratching Close your mouth When you chew Remember to Clea

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…

August and After Haiku

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The brown grackle chirps/ as she chomps a plump cricket-/ melodious meal.

The Couple Who Loved Murder

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I’ll give you a pair of grey cement pumps then into the river, your body I’ll dump.