Most recent stories

There Was a G.I. - January 1970

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was beaten in the back of the brig.

The Winter's Too Warm for Bears to Sleep

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The winter’s too warm for the bears to sleep, and they get up in the middle of the night with insomnia and wander about the streets in their pajamas, knocking over garbage cans, looking for a midnight snack of some kind. They’re getting kind o

The Cold Bank Ravens

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In punch drunk waiting rooms... On election routes

Eulogy

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In one hand she cradles a cigarette, in the other a glass of red wine. Typically neither of these things would be allowed in here, and on this occasion it was thought that it would be better to let her do what she wanted.

profanity

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@#$!

Txt msging

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Forty years later he was still her Romeo, she his Juliet.

A Broken Ankle, Canasta, and a Weirdly Sexy Jesus Sighting

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nothing can stop a group of genteel Southern women from a card game, and divine intervention makes one's participation in such an event quite worthwhile

A Scriptwriter's Story

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He paid the price for being a dick when he tried to write. The Muse did not care for violent behavior.

November 6th

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Need not remember, the 6th of November.

The We

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You gotta see this new drugdelivered thru a procedurally exacting pill Sugar coated yetcompletely foul tastingDrought drowning and will make you blowfish-cheekedIt creates coincidences with bafflement and symmetry Meaningfully uncertain…

Arcana Magi Fifth World - Part 2

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Miranda hugged Madam Mayweather as the girls, except Akane, gathered around them.

The Tree

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No fuckin' way, Maude. Excuse me, but you know I can't stand that bag of wind. No way.

5 Star Ratings.

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But THIS is what happens when you collect genuine reviews. I began with a list of 50 of the greatest books of all time, according to the compiler of the list, and then went to a list of some of the worst best sellers in recent history, [scroll down] and t

A Rich Future

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Also in development,/ the anatomically perfect robot/ pool boy and naughty maid,

Beelzebub

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The jewels were dragonflies, buzzing lazily, Beelzebub’s hair a golden meadow.

The Phone Call and The Green Murk Crisis

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hangs inverted and begins a swirling motion,

Spring in November

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It is dead, for a time. Sometimes we are all dead for a time. Our lives leave off, sleep under the weight of snow.

| To Sew the Night Together, At Last | (A hybrid essay)

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____________________________________I get an internet connection and send this poem out in haste: Drugs, New Orleans…

This Isn't a Title, But I'm Fingering Your Mother, While You're Sitting at the Computer, Reading This.

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[ETIQUETTE ... DECORUM ... BOUNDARIES ... BAH!]

Too many leaves

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This late November day there are too many leaves filling the yard.

Making Waves in Sculptural Math

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It was a summer full of rage and discontent. The air had a new taste to it, reminiscent of the tang of battery acid.

Darkness

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DARKNESS …

Helene

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My little friend is no bigger than a minute. An even five feet tall, if that.

Poem on the Table

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Its intelligence won’t be/ diminished when you take/ a bone saw to its cranium

To an Overly Helpful Husband of Advanced Age

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in which a man who is bored with years of retirement poses a threat to himself and others

On a Sunday

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It is always midnight in my heart; / and melancholy advances from handsome men / only take place in my mind...

K Model

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Plans were all set. We were leaving this town. We'd been creeping around long enough and Marla wanted nothing more than to get out and away from the shallow, old bastard she married. “Fuck his mansion and fuck his country club”, she said. We both agreed that he…

A Summoning

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why not just go ahead and walk into the mirror à la Jean Marais following Heurtibise into the underworld.

Wet Rainbow

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I'm too base to ignore.

In an Unfamiliar Restaurant.

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I find myself in an unfamiliar restaurant, its cuisine an uncomfortable pastiche of Croatian, Burmese, Jamaican and leftovers of long ago Sunday dinners in a small New England town.