Most read stories

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

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. …

Having brunch with my friends

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

LUPUS

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Unexpected Fever

The Nielsens (part one)

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I am one one millionth of a ratings point. A little flash of electronic blue against the wall of an otherwise unlit upstairs room at night. Walk by on the sidewalk feeling lonely, then see that harsh spark of indigo spring from the dark window above and

Not from the self but from the Other

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meanings figure into traffic streams reds fade, trickle down the long ‘V' another passing human ear; tall, tall buildings paper poised on horizon. situations gape in and out of seconds corners turn to disappearance, witness follows fingers…

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.

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

Why Mr. Doss Had To Die

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He held my little hand in his and guided it through the dirt.

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.

Amoco Cadiz

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She'd liked the name of the tanker. The Amoco Cadiz.

The First Soliloquy of the Interior Zombie

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But do come close enough for me to hear.

Baked Beans

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mundane tradition

Just a Suggestion.

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[testing ... one, two, three ... testing ... is this thing on? ... ok, here goes:]

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

Notel Nobel

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That was before Cohen died. Castro died. Castro Died should be a title by Samuel Beckett. Once I nearly went out to buy a bass clarinet just for the purpose of playing along with Leonard Cohen.

Without Consent

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You never thought you were capable of rape.

Top Ten Reasons Why I Stipple

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Chicks dig dots.

a night on the f'naut

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with images overflowing with delicate thought scenes with nightmarish wet dreams

Dairy Queen Lust

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I, personally, just had no interest in having some pimply-faced moron stick his tongue down my throat.

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.2 - c.1

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No matter the guidance and support she received from her parents, her psychiatrist, and her friend; no matter how hard they tried to remind her of her humanity, Azure believes this chimera form is her true body now.

The Zen Gunslinger

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On top of the refrigerator is a small wooden box

The Rainbow Clockwerkz

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Mama Blinkey Lights yells at Papa Blinkey Lights and tells him to quit playing the fool, and when we turn our attention back to removing the shafts, we are chagrined to find that not only have they multiplied once again, but that they have gone yet farthe

Channel Zero

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

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.

Iowa Voters

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I miss my fire from the first three races

Surprise

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a shy girl

Ticket To Ride

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And by God he made it to heaven! St. Peter waved him on in...

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—

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…