Most recent stories

The Seven Year Itch

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It’s not every day that a girl like me gets greeted with a hairy beast that orgles and spits when excited. Didn’t help none that it only had one eye. Poor little ole bugger.

Not Drowning

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You were a buoy.

Nothing to laugh at, at all.

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The house had to be clean - I mean thorough-clean - when he got home from the pit for his tea, or he’d throw his plate at the wall and the gravy would run down onto the carpet. There was always gravy.

Back in the Shower

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Naked, we stood in my shower. When she kicked my tool, I noticed she had a toe ring.

Saturday Morning

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Saturday morning, and I’m pushing the old truck a little, chasing retreating bands of cloud shadows along a winding hilltop road.

Tails

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"I found a dead bunny one morning. This was about three weeks ago. Its tiny round pom-pom of a tail was missing."

Sixty words or less

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She wakes up sad. She can't shit. She spreads out the foil. no creases. folds it in half. She puts the stuff in the crease. holds a lighter under it. A zippo. then smokes it. Well smokes the smoke. It's like kissing god or the…

Things I Should Have Done - #5

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When I walked into the local police precinct to meet with a detective about the scope of my rights, I was thinking about Rocco, the adored dog of a long-ago life.

Fifty-One

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Several friends—hers and his—hung around the edges of their marriage, and it would be naive to rule out the possibility of a few stray affairs. The thought didn’t anger him; on the contrary it amused him as if it were some trivia question, the answe

Pinnacles

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Pinnacles State Park lying on our backs stoned on hash around a campfire looking up at the clear see-through blue green stars to the other side of the universe I know now you are out there I float up to within 2

Fireworks

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You load the pipe and suck in the fireworks. Whistling missiles, slithering sparks, shivering teases, dripping embers. You fall asleep with flashing neon outside and the Fourth of July in your veins. When you wake up, your room is the saddest place o

The Bridge

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The Chicago River is an artery of great renown in the history of the city, and it connects the lower waterways that lead to the town of Lockport and beyond. Near the old neighborhood where I used to live, the river divides the district, from Chinatown, do

Elevator Neighbors (from The New Yorker)

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“Do you think she paints?” “Her face, a little, But don’t you find her kind of bony?”

Bow Ties & Brooklyn Dressing

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collars of obedience / discarded in the pyre / with draft cards and bras

"Fancy Me"

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He stopped the shower and recounted his life, now Kin-less and plain.

Eight-Legged Freaks

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I’ve just moved to New York City and, somehow, Scarlett Johansson is at the same party I’m at.

Bookmark

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Some books are like old friends and when you read them, you no longer feel alone.

The Last VooDoo Doll

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So I lopped off his head and reworked the creation...

Beatnik Blonde

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everything plus zero stays the same

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 10

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O’Toole signaled again with two fingers. The night was young. Suddenly I had to go home to my lovely Penny. All I knew was I didn’t want to end up drinking at a hole like this with my head down on the bar.

Comic Superhero

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Andrew had learned the art of being a chameleon at school where his school uniform provided an exoskeleton. Beneath was no costume, just the fragile skin of adolescent ego.

From The Doctor, With Love

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I love how you touch me, your hands warm on my shape...

Woman at the Bar

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I saw a woman / at the bar tonight

Sea Shell

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Useless.

Time

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Time is the / gravy of the bloody roast beef of / emptiness.

Even My Air Guitar Is Lame

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I had the hair of a metal god, cracking it against the air whenever the stereo belched fists.

The Underwear Thing

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Our banter has shifted, like wading from the shallow to the deep end. He taps his foot. “Your underwear reminded me of my grandma’s underwear.”

Dear Lieutenant General Fred

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But I am delighted to inform you that through our computer added softwareness, YOU have to been chosen as our Nigerian contact for the transfer of fundage used to research global warming. How ‘bout them apples?

A Little Fishing

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Len and I sit on Harpo's porch, drink beer and gab. It's hot, even for July. Len and I joke and laugh, and Harpo stares off into the middle distance.

Will #17

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I want crazy at my funeral. I want clowns, a petting zoo, fireworks, craps tables, male and female strippers, and a three-person band composed of old men wearing striped vests, black pants, and straw hats: one plays a banjo, another on tuba, and…