Most read stories

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.

Teddy

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I'd had way too many drinks. My legs were quivering. Everyone had gathered there in the kitchen, my sleek and attractive ex-wife the center of attention, all the men fucking drooling over her. Seems she was a yoga queen now, a vegan princess, a dancer somewhere. She…

Vegan Says "Kill"

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....sucking my blood kind of draws the line.

Music and Books

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You're all I've got to keep me company, but it's a very fine company. So familiar, and warm as any cold digital fireplace. I can tell you've got more in your story, but it doesn't make you happy. I really do not feel well today. Fun I wanted to…

Gauntlet

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They bury their own.

Famous Female Artist

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My dog Alfie and I would get in my van and go out at midnight for a doughnut. Or an éclair. A French cruller, to be exact. Sometimes we would get Blondie's Pizza on Telegraph Avenue near the Berkeley campus, if it got to be too lonely and restless at nigh

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

Buzz

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Why is this woman smiling? Because she’s the Real Mona Lisa, that’s why

David and Big Bird

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Hot sweaty bodies slam into each other to get aboard the overflowing subway car. I struggle to wedge myself though the sliding doors, bracing for more bodies to press against mine. The passengers in front of me suddenly stop and fan out.

The Poetry Section

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In the poetry section, no one talks except to say, "excuse me," or, "wow," or, "amazing," with the second 'a' stretched out like a blacktop highway. But mostly they say, "excuse me." and that's only because someone dressed in a corduroy jacket is …

John on the 9th

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"Excuse me. I believe you have a little something falling from your right nostril there," he said, pointing with his pinky.

Too Much Info

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  It wasn't meant for our brains to take in so much information, I hear someone say on NPR The information age, seems to be suited for me, I can't get enough of it, it floods my mind and nerves, Reading wikipedia and blogs for hours and You tube   And im…

The Abstracted Man

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The abstracted man lacks an inside. He is a body. A shell. An exterior that encompasses nothing.The abstracted man yearns to fill himself with adjectives. He lumbers through streets. No adjectives fit. He finds adjectives where we discard them. He carries them in his…

Women Meeting new Men

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WOMEN MEETING NEW MEN up suddenly from a new fire we each rose up suddenly columns of smoke wrapping around one another parts of us touching and matching fitting and twisting tightly becoming one over this poem…

Sack

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He cut a hole in the sack

Letter

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I'm writing you this letter played on a cherry flute. I'm sending it along through the poem's cloud of incense. The only delivery system I still hitch up for long distance pitching. I'm writing you a letter you'll probably never read. Never…

One Star

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...somehow that light has found me.

Mom #2

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We’d sometimes find my mother asleep in her chair outside her trailer at the nudist camp when we drove up. She loved her garden there, even with the rabbits eating her young tomato plants. She used to coax the bluebirds down to the railing of her trailer

About My Dad

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My dad was in a barber training school where they cut off the tip of a bum's ear and taped it back on with scotch tape

The Demon Rum

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the Coke made his butt leak blood

Five Million Yen: Chapter 62

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She was wearing a robe, but her hip movement sent an ancient message.

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.

So, Good

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It’s good to get fucked in the rain. It’s good to get fucked in the back seat of a power boat on a river in the hot summer air with the mosquitos sucking the life out of you. It’s good to get fucked with your bare back rubbing up against the rough bar

it’s possible that i’ve given this some thought

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“Our legs are touching. Our legs. Touching. The light from the screen illuminates your eyes. Off and on. Even in night scenes. Maybe it dances in the eyes of other people there too. But I doubt it. Not like…

commitment

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but isn't that the case in most long-term, committed relationships?

Lessons in Insomnia

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It’ll all make sense when you're sitting on an éclair chaise longue by the morning pool of coffee.

Pointing Fingers.

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She burns her wrists with menthols; she says it's too much effort to cut them. Besides, it's more fun.

Hell We Were American

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We danced the pee dance after too much Seven Up and tasted odd Jello dishes.

Excerpt: Reykjavik: A Novel

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2. Reykjavík - 1986 …

Winter-Logged Love-Fest

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it is a wonder that we are speakingyou and iafter the fall season felt hopeful.Now the words mean nothingmy fairy has taken a vacationand women sleep with men in nice suits.