Most recent stories

D.H. Lawrence Ghazal

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How many shadows in your soul? Close your eyes, my love, let me / make you blind as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

In tidal relief

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the world slips under the waves

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 1

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Before he was Francesco Martinelli

aromatic

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this bleeding sun, clove studded & seedless

Glad the Moon Worked the Night Shift

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When we were seventeen, after her dad, the preacher, finished his Sunday night church services that required our mandatory attendance, we'd walk to my car in the pasture-turned parking lot holding hands and stop at the passenger-side car door to kiss deeply, get…

My Children in Times New Roman

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This test should not be a riddle, it's a simple yes/no. The answer should settle curiosity with an image. One line or two, plus or minus. I say something like this, and the customer service rep asks me to hold.Thing is, I know the answer. I'm moody. My breasts feel like…

The Power

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the silence of the hardwood floors blisters into fragments

A Story with Tahini in It

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"What do you mean..."

Moonlight Thru A Metal Gate

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Like sun-stream through a spider's web I came with nothing left to master, at least nothingtoo abstract. Like moonlight thru a metal gate I emitted what was animal, without ceremony, without fate, only the diagonal, only the hexagonal, only configuration. …

No Such Thing

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People could disappear in the Pine Barrens and never be seen again. Either by their own choice or when someone didn’t want the body found. John Dance knew that was just a part of life you had to accept and couldn’t change.

The Bird Nests of Lascaux

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With their brightly-colored bits of found string woven into the walls of their nests to teach their baby birds what the worms of the future will look like. Somewhat like the cave paintings of Lascaux for early man in France, when hunti

Dumb Luck and the Fall of Empires

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At some point we all reach the end point/ of something. Something important/ if only to our fragile self esteem.

The Gatekeeper Of The Pathogens

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It was in his teeth. A blackness, a subscription to an outsideness, a painful contraction of burnt out trees scattered there among sand drifts and tidal debris. His face, lightly weathered and troubled, a tightness built into eyes of thought and separation. His arms, strong…

forever

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over tea & saltineshe read melike an obituary

First Person

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We're each other's inside out. (100 words)

Excelsior - A Poem in 9 Parts (post 2 of 5)

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II. ByCoalport Your hair streams minarets across a bridge, The…

Advice For Aspiring Writers

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Published writers will tell you that the most important thing you can do as a beginning writer is to know your markets! So this month, we'll talk about two of the markets open to you and your riveting but as yet unpublished prose -- Fling Magazine and Clubhouse…

Gateway to the Continent

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I got to Victoria station at quarter to eleven on a Friday with nothing but a small leather bag and the vague idea of getting out of London.

One Way (for Tina Kieffer)

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This mother, she buys a one way ticket whenever she visits her three daughters who have wandered far from the eyes of her pearlescent knitting needles and tutti-frutti yarns.

An Apricot the Size of a Heart

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I dreamt, said the Donkey, of an apricot. An apricot the size of a heart. …

The Queen of the Underground

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Study decay, says the Queen of the Underground.

Don't Trip On My Exit Switch

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It’s nice, but, it’s weird not being in love, or maybe in love, sometimes in love. (Or, not in love. Frankly, we might be not in love.) Or, both of us might be. Or, only one of us might be. (Good lord, I hope it’s never me.)

Zero

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0 is beautiful0 invented by Indians1 you can almost trust2 is poor3 the figure of human nature4 the face of all paradox5 is a handsome man6 a repetitive voice7 is a temptress9 an ugly and noisy digitSo too is 8100 is rich1000 the symbol of strength1 million resembles a…

Our Top Hats Blow Off While Yours Gets Tipped

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Our world is a prism floating through its own rainbow smeared shadows in a desperate attempt to get caught. Our lives are in the carpets, the planks, the winds. Whatever has heard us, has not believed in us enough to rescue us from our own …

Staring at a Bird Feeder

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Will it strike suddenly?

Dream State

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forced to submit/ to reasonableness// and universal healthcare.

If Ted Hughes Rewrote Shakespeare

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The Phoenix Asks the Turtle-Dove if He Can Get a Drop of Water: After Shakespeare — In the style of Ted Hughes Let the bugling bird come up that burst a big loud lay, On the solitary tree of old Arabia (sound its thunder!):…

Very Short Stories And Pictures Of Ducks

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...the loving and very painful hurt of our daily sustenance

Couch Potato Blues

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Whenever I get the urge to write a poem I try to talk myself out of it.

Newborn Baby App — Buyer Beware!

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They first hook you in with how cute they are. And they are cute, do not get me wrong. I'm not, nor have I ever been, fundamentally against babies—until now. As the first reviewer of this oh-so-wonderful app, my intention is not to…