Most read stories

Luminous Nights

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A great doubt had shut out the light inside us, but each of us called for our lover at the end, and she was generous. Carrying us along inside her over vast distances, chilling our soul with sudden terrible flashes of light.

The Zen Gunslinger

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On top of the refrigerator is a small wooden box

Pandora’s Box

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I’m going to stop there, before the darkness sets in.

Surprise

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a shy girl

Having brunch with my friends

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I ordered biscuits and gravy at the Sunset Grill, Just before the Amber Alert

(From an Awakened Sleep)

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pluck me from the charred grate

Channel Zero

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A killer enters the room. No one notices, and the show goes on.

Veins Of Crazy Water

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People tell me my personality is a drug. Could be. My shadow is a spine. And I have the current density of copper. A welcoming face. Opium eyes opium thumbs. The piccolo is parenthetical. …

The Shared Transgender(er)

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...I told Uncle Lou I thought it (trans-gendering) looked like a thoughtful way of occupying the world. It was a personal triumph, for some individuals, over the destructive affects of denial. Besides, it hurt no one, and it didn’t destroy property. I alw

Being For The Benefit Of Mr Kite!

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Morpheus dreams… […fairground atmosphere burlesque hand-operated steam organs calliopes cut and spliced reversed harmonium kaleidoscopic grotesque waltzing carousel…] PABLO FANQUE'S CIRCUS ROYAL Grandest Night of the Season! and positively the LAST NIGHT BUT THREE! being…

moving forward

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see this:/ ink-stained paper/ littering miles

excerpt from a forthcoming novel

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I wriggled in the bed and felt the sheets soaked with perspiration. My arms were lined with tape and tubing, needles pressed in veins. I reached for the cloth again and again, and every time they stopped me. The hands that came were cold and hard, urgent

4Beers

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I would ask for your name/if your tongue wasn’t in my mouth.

The Loss of a Child

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I watched as the light fled from your eyes, No slowly dimming lamp,

Heart

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She drew her hands out of the chest cavity and looked at the clock. ‘Time of death,’ she said.

The Fallen Oak

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Jonas Griffin stared out the bay window as he drank his morning cup, his eyes gleaming with something between wistfulness and disdain at Reynold who sat patiently in the adjacent yard, leaning against the majestic oak tree that towered in its hundred year

Clean

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I am standing in my neighbor’s back yard in my underwear, and my trash can is clean.

With Ann Coulter on the Jewish Conversion Tour

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A little bony for my tastes–I wonder if she’s on the Lady Di diet. I wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers, but it would be like sleeping with Eva Braun.

The Innocence of Age

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“I want to show you something pretty.” She looked at me, chin on her chest, watery brown eyes looking up. Skin tags on her eyelids made it difficult for her to look as coquettish as she wanted. She tried to flutter what was left of her eyelashes, but syr

At Play in the Fields of the Lord

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Rothko explored horizons,/ blurring figure and ground/ by omitting the figure.

Regarding Bill Yarrow’s Assertion that Herrick Was a Voyeur (Poor Julia: Violated, but Immortal)

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the observation, at the end, more/ important than the being there—

Can't You Tell When I Get Lonely?

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“Can't you tell when I get lonely?”, she asks. “No”, I say. It gets awkward because she wants me to know when she gets lonely. I don't give her the attention she wants without realizing it. She moves away and stares at me for…

Without Consent

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You never thought you were capable of rape.

Wind Drinks Time Like Wine

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but let's stop and take another look at things could it be through our closed eyes that we didn't really know what we were talking about that there never was a surprise

The MacGowans Flee West

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Some believe the Scots were encouraged to emigrate, hired guns as it were, to Ireland to civilize that population. If that's the case, we would see it as another evil English trick. In any case, we MacGowans are Scots Irish and Protestant.

Death Hitches a Ride

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We passed a dead cat lying up against a guard rail, its fur stringing and wet and exposing its bloated skin which had a purple tint to it. Not my work, Death said, smoke trickling out of one eye socket.

Good For The Ducks

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It's dawn. It's quiet on the pond in the Public Garden. The light is calm, the pollution is mild, and everything is still,except for the occasional cruising taxi. It's the beginning of spring-- tulips out, leaves…

Walking

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Who are not here.

Test Results

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Six weeks, four thousand dollars, and twelve hundred miles later, I figured I was done with the cleansing process.

Top Ten Reasons Why I Stipple

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Chicks dig dots.