Most read stories

634 Orchards, fruits & forestry

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The juice that stays on my neck when you tip me back, catching me in an alleyway, holding me upright as the oranges tumble and strike the backs of my knees. You cup your strong-smelling, sticky-soft fingers around my ear and say let's blow this city.

COYOTE BAIT

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Light was always fucking with you in LA, especially in the afternoon where it possessed a golden hue that could knock you over if you weren’t careful. Its beauty reminded you of what you lacked.

Serial Killer

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Once Mom finally came to terms with the fact that my brother was gay, she became convinced he was a serial killer. “He has all the signs,” she told me as she trimmed my hair. “Signs?” I asked, watching her in the…

BLACKHORSE

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All the neighborhood kids waited for the school bus on a small cement slab at the bottom of the first big hill on Blackhorse Road. My mother made me scrambled egg sandwiches on wheat toast every morning for breakfast before I left for school. Then one mor

Royal Coachman

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" trout hovered in a sun-dappled pool"

Flexeril and Hydrocodone and Want

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Flexeril and Hydrocodon... For my back

Nature Poem

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Blueberries are like testicles: you have to hold them gently, from underneath.

Eight Maids a'Milking

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“… and that concludes my presentation. I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have.” Meixu Liao smiled and turned her hands out, palms upwards. Americans typically saw this combination of facial expression and body language as conveyin

Sing

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"From up here the city lights burn like a thousand miles of fire," he croaked, his voice scratchy from sobbing. In pinpoints of illumination he imagined his wife - *former* wife - Calli in that Mustang convertible he'd gotten her for a birthday surprise

Arcana Magi - c.10: To the Horizon

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“Stay there Alysia!” Brie said from behind as she ran toward them. The Sentinel used Alysia’s back as a step and launched herself into the air with Legacy over her head.

Vague Obscenities

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The next day on YouTube, 3,558,019 users watched the clip of Kate dangling next to Jay Leno's chin.

Defender

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He had what was commonly referred to in junior high as the ‘bullshit mustache’.

TGIF

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“You’re off till Monday,” the big man told him. “You can thank Mr. Big Mouth and company for that. Death detail gets two days off.”

compass/ion

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a question that (never) left

Stories from the War

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He didn’t know how to tell his story. It wasn’t an easy story to tell. There certainly was a clear beginning, but it didn’t make much sense to start at the beginning. There was no way to end the story either; the ending seemed to last forever.

Labor Policy

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The City Council supports this policy and, by necessity, ranks human slavery very low on the list of the city’s woes.

Officer Friendly

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The last time Ray and I broke up, I flew my flag at half-mast. It was the kind of thing that pissed him off. He was very big on flag etiquette: how the flag should be folded, the fact that it should never touch the ground, when to fly it at half-mast, the rules regarding…

Happiness

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Was I a dreamer? Was I asking for too much?

Everybody Needs a Soul

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They are running the bulls in Pamplona this afternoon and they have no idea how to do this and they are way too old for this and they want to relive their youth and run the bulls in Pamplona They want to drink like Ernest Hemingway and run

The Last 3,600 Seconds

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I can feel everything getting closer, the past catching up. All the cunts and cocks and clits I've ever touched. I left them all on the other side of the world, and now they're creeping back to me.

Sorry to have missed you

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1. Allowance 2. Tooth fairy 3. JFK coin savings bank in clear plastic beveled skyscraper tower 4. Ben Franklin iron coin bank

Hunger

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for E. …

A Sunday Afternoon in Paris

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He would lean on his window sill in the evening and watch the whores. They wore gaudy clothes and too much makeup.

Lancelot Meets Goya Meets Cortázar Meets Mowat

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to say that he was doing fine

Eight minutes, twenty one seconds

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Well, I turn the car off, the song turns off, I gather all of my stuff, turn off my lights, inevitably drop something as I’m getting out of the car, shut the door, lock the car, fumble for my house key, walk up the stairs, unlock the front door, set my

desire

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burning for You, caught in between, yearning to remain completely wrapped around Your finger, feeling panoramic, and this alive.

The Piss-Colored Man

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His open door was interpreted by the neighbor as an invitation to all but place a mirror under his nose. She demanded opportunities to fluff his pillows and coerced him into accepting gifts of food, more than he could possibly eat, and sometimes ate with

Peacemaker

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He had the cannonball head of Hemingway, the stump neck, sloping shoulders and barrel chest.

Real As Your Underwear

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when unicorns took to flight / the poles shifted / the world flooded / and Pangaea busted open like calloused palm

You Can Remain Anonymous

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a poem about an abduction in my NYC neighborhood