Most read stories

My Secret Pen Pal

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What if I let it be known that I've been enjoying a heavy correspondence with Queen Elizabeth my entire life? We began the correspondence on the very day she was coronated. February 6th, 1952. I was four years old and working as a bartender in Cheyenne, Wyoming. …

The Coming of Doctor Congo (Acts 1 & 2)

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1. The Doctor Sudan, 1936 The trap was sprung! The pair of would-be plunderers hung feet-over-head in a robust net of tightly woven rope, arms and legs entangled, alarm issuing like a Klaxon from…

Ron Vara speaks out at last.

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He’s an empty sock

Living In A Novel

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I walked into a novel and sat down on a rock. The language was distressed and full of cyclones and swells. I could smell embalming fluid and folklore. Everywhere I went there were doorknobs, escalators, and clocks. Objects of all genre overflowing with prose. I stood at …

Morning in Louisiana

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Sunlight slaps the asphalt hard. Steam rises. It looks like thought. The sweet vapors of rumination.

Leftover Author's Notes

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#281: If you make it to the end on this one, I'll send you $1,000 in cash and a bag of apples. Your choices are Granny Smith and Fuji. I can also pay you in euros if that helps.

Barely Spring

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On a business road

They Were RICHEY-RICH!!! (Part IV-tham, and FINAL!)

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[.......]

Being Generic.

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"Why bother?" Her companion muttered something not dissimilar.

The Full Treatment

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She rolled onto her back and spread her hind legs. Her lewd poses were fine on a fat cat, but as I rubbed her belly I wondered if that’s what might have gotten her into trouble as a human. I tried to reassure myself that her indiscretions weren’t my fault

We Poor Splendid to Look On

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Leave us to hide our sundials in our caves— / discard our scrolls that guide no more, / to time our nights to learn if we can grieve / —we’ve too much noise or less than we can hear . . .

Second Wave, 1944 (with notes)

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Here were men trying their best to kill other men....

Black and White

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Chris and I have an understanding. We've been playing cops and robbers all morning, running around and stirring up shit.

pome sequence from an early spring

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Say say say say say say says our I-I-I-me tunes:

A Condemnation

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I won't read between the lineswhen the linesI'm daily given are half truthsI will take what you sayas truewhenthe truthsuits me as well as it suits youI heard you yelling at him, you knowyou didn't know I was home yet but I wasI was grabbing a package off the…

Unconditional Unbroken

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It's house has seen every day and every night From its windows stars are born and die

That's All Right

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People are yelling for Little Elvis

Poof

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Yesterday's protest...

Christian Bell vs. Sleep

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Christian Bell can’t sleep in/on the following: airplanes, car trips, couches, first nights in hotels, jury duty holding area, commuter train, work breakroom, tent, park bench, the ground.

Unintended Dispatch

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Other therapists had their own names for it: death by mishap, inadvertent fatal impact, unintended loss of life. These were all very polite ways of describing what happens when one person, mistakenly and without malice, kills another.

Things Inside of Other Things

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Determined to make this Thanksgiving more special than the last, she ponders long on how to create a chiduckey.

Doubts.

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It's dark outside.

Through a Sudden Window

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There is someone looking for youfor himself or her. I don't know if they'll keep on looking forever when we live our present lives so far apart from each other. You might as well be behind a glass at all times. But I still would want that lucky…

Wish I Had

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A pet scorpion. A pet scorpion named Chris.(1)

Shopping List Mind

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No-one ever sits beside him. As if he might urinate, or spit. Or, worse, engage in conversation about God.

Death Dreams, by Norman Klein

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My hand falling...

The World is Full

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of birds. The world is full of snakes. The world isfull of mushrooms. The world is full of flies. The worldis full of bombs. Not so many trees. Not as many as you might think. The world is full of flowers. Notso many bees. The world is full of rocks. Some…

Another Band Name

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Hillary's Pantsuits

How the Monarchs Thrive

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At the time, Leanne was meant to be going with Daryll Keyser. She played bells in Mr. Davis’ marching band, and Daryll played tuba. On the bus home from Tulip Festivals, still in their uniforms, they’d do things to each other in 10-minute turns...

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My letters are getting lost in the soup