Most read stories

i can't have

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Hey there little hippie girl, smilin’ to the ears and dripping with scarves, I cherish our friendship. However, every time you take off your shoes to dance at a rock show, hair swingin’ like silk vines in the paradise that is your shaking ass...

The Snowman on the Moon

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'Tis a cruel season. I have nothing and no means to order anything. Nobody to shop for and nobody to buy things for me. But the catalogues keep coming. And these catalogues don't bring out the best in me. The catalogues switch on what I call my want switc

The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly

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One of the women is a brassy blond, and when she takes off her coat, I almost choke on a French fry.

The Mouths of Babes

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Moans and whispers woke me. I rubbed crust from my eyes and glanced at the G.I. Joe clock on my nightstand. 9:36. I pulled the covers back and stumbled out of my room. The living room light was on. Father Osborne's black suit coat was draped over the back of the couch. He…

Retreat

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We are in search of free hor d’oeuvres, me and Jane – Jane from H.R., Jane who is exactly as plain as her name implies, Jane, who, for now anyway, for this company retreat, is my kindred spirit in broke-ass hangover land.

My Hairy Thumbnail

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I was a gangly 11 years old, a year before the Watergate hearings pre-empted the afternoon cartoons on television, when I discovered an uncle's girlie magazine during routine reconnaissance of my grandmother's hall closet.

Smoke

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We both lost our appetites, her sense of taste destroyed by the tide of smoke sweeping across her tongue, wiping out her taste buds. Mine was limited to the four tastes the tongue alone could discern,

All Will Be Well

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Jesus will walk on the water. Judas will walk on a technicality.

Loose Lips Sink Ships

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I asked the Eskimo if he'd ever seen a vagina before. “Because I can show you,” I whispered. Albert Huffman, a recent arrival to Hamden via Alaska, was not, in fact,…

For Carol: Life Bursts Out

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Life was small. It was tiny even, so tiny it was hard to see it sometimes. Life curled up to make itself even smaller, to fit into the kinds of holes that insects crawl into to get away from bigger insects. Life was sad. Life didn't want to be an insect.

Riposi in Pace.

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It was too young to be love. We were 5, a buzz-cut me, and you, plated with babyteeth

Crocodilian

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it ate her and then I was next in line

And Furthermore

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clickety-clack, not.

Hello, My Name Is James, And I Am An Asshole

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By my calculations, all hell is uncoiling. At the moment, this fact is not really obvious to anyone, but I'm confident that will change soon enough.

Valley Rugstore

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He hunched low and forward on his bike, his 14-year old self, flying down the dusty back roads of this Great Midwestern Land, his head full of the smell of the algebraic girl he sat behind in math class just hours ago.

The Death of Tarzan

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Martín stood over the slow, labored panting as if it were a mystery he could not explain. The dog lay on the frayed pillow bed, a knot of fur and skin, in his father’s office. One eye, like an almond floating in milk, stared up at the boy.

Resurrection

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Rudely awakened, confused and bewildered, he stood stone silent and watched me flee. I barely managed to keep my wits together, didn't and couldn't pretend that I wasn't running out of his bedroom as if my life depended on it. He wouldn't call me a cab,

He knows better

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It’s time to let her go.

Steve Jobs in Hell

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Everyone asks that question. The short answer is: he brought it on himself.

Already Dead

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It was already dead and was hanging from her ceiling.

Killing with kindness

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I have a few medical issues.

A sense that something has happened

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hunting after dark,/ in the quiet they seemed to appear/ with every new poem I read, each new workshop, some hunting carried on/ by both animals.

Leave Off Doves

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Midway through the fall semester, an unremarkable girl in Professor Woody's Advanced Fiction workshop dyed her hair an unnatural shade of dark, changed her name to Tasmina, and turned in a story filled with made-up words.

By 4th Grade at St. Paul’s Elementary, No One Believes in the Spanking-Machine-in-the-Closet of Sister Alice Elenita’s Office

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Arthur farts. Pandemonium. Miss O'Kelly shouts, “Quiet!” 32 nine year-olds freeze. “Close your books, fold your hands on your desk, put your heads down.” Obedience. Silence. Until…

Bitter Orange

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A poison bouquet of Merlot and brown floor muck bloomed in Seth’s nose. It’s one thing to sniff a freshly decanted red and another thing to shower in it.

Scrabbled Sensitivities

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It was fun, until he started winning every time.

One Poem, Eight Rejections

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Do you suppose you could make your female protagonist a salamander rather than a human?

17 Days

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Sometimes, under the gauze and yellow salves, I glimpse you...

And We're Catching The Bus

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On the bus Jenna looked out the window at the bleak fuckscape.

Tremor

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I ask because she's the animal person, not me. She understands animal behavior.