Most recent stories

Xmas Story

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The conspicuous police car was conspicuously just ahead.

The Pataphysical Tourist

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We all get in a carriage of tin and volcanic glass and go a-touring. We had quite an itinerary to fulfill, all of it loosely applied to the principle of serendipity. We toured Luxembourg and tossed pretzels to the bankers who did tricks for us, somersaults and complex…

No Wind

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The candle was near the windowsill.It smelled like the musk my father used to spray before he went awayto work.Oh father, I remember you,your chocolate brown eyes,would watch the sunrisebefore breakfast;serious- so serious and waiting for something that…

Van Gogh’s Ear

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A drunken evening, both men soused and twitchy. An argument ensues with Yellow House roommate Paul Gauguin. The two dissing each other’s work like clicking beetles

The Morning

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Dawn is spreading its pink and blue colours over the morning. Pleasant hues, with children playing and birds chattering. A light morning, without commitments, without waves, open to promises. Mornings don't speak our language and don't make the same gestures. They speak a…

the wrap

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a whisper of wind

In the Woods II

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The neighbor was a little woman...

The Vote

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God had decided to resign. Not even two weeks notice. He just resigned. Point blank.

Cambridge Vignettes (from the 1960s)

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I wanted none of her. But also that day I had just finished The Story of 0., and my mind was full of sadistic whimsies and the mood of anythingness that the book instills: the pound of fleshness. Anyway, I sneered at her and told her she bored me, and sat

My First Winter in Massachusetts

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My first winter in Massachusetts feels medieval: cold, dark, and endless.

Imaginary Friend

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"Where've you been?" the image in the mirror asked. "I haven't seen you since yesterday," she said. "Yeah, I miss you too," he said.

A Little *PSYCHOTIC* —

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[um ... "howza 'bout another piece of, chocolate CAKE ... ?? #tammyBAKER #tammyBAKER #AYE #AYE ]

Хлебников via странников (+ two tombs from Mallarmé + one more)

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No harp now hails, / no wood sings mirth, no good hawk / swoops through the hall, no swift steed / paws dirt in the castle-yard. Woeful death / has emptied earth of an ancient race.

Last Night I Dated The Universe

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Last night I dated the universe. What a hottie! I arrived on time and was feeling a bit spacey. Look at me, I said. I'm on time. Yeah, well, I invented time. I made sure you'd be here on time. Cool. Where do you want to go? Doesn't matter. Wherever we go I'm already…

Izyum

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The fire was so fierce,so fair like an opal;the most primal burn."Death haunts these trees,"the woman said, as she held the potof beetroot soup above the fire.They spoke from the basement; living in the dark space,nerves too locked up to to look out the windowand…

A Girl and Her Trees

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The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle. Fall was near, a rotten apple.

The Caracol, a snapshot

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waves assaulted black volcanic rock in briny harmony

Night Letters from the Underground

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As ghosts, they became lovers. Rodion would strum the Underwood keys like a balalaika. Lizaveta would sing.

Waste

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When the compost thaws the past oozes out into the present....

I'll Show You God

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...the room was filled with a brightness and a breeze, making you think you were up in the clouds.

The Tale of a Fat Ugly Crow on a May Afternoon

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a fat crow rapturously caws over its good fortune... not a morsel left on the street, not even a bloodstain

Nervous-WRECK *VEEK*

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[Scumbag scumbag ― fuck you!!! Stop reading this it's my private JOURNAL!!! Thanks. ;) ]

A Borrowed Barrow

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It was a battered, creaky, rickety old thing, this wheelbarrow. It had two wooden handles with cracks running through the wood, a fat rubber wheel and a deep tray encrusted with the mud and plaster and grout that it had transported through decades of heavy use. Based on…

Nostalgias and Anachronisms, Past and Present

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Thus does time fly and we with it. Because time flies on the cosmic scale, curious things inevitably occur in local circumstances.

Tying Flies

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He plucks the feathers and winds thread to simulate an insect’s torso.

This Poem Has No Title

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...Or perhaps it has; It depends which way you look at it. Perhaps the reader may cite laziness As my reason for not titling this Any other than I would have done As now, with such a title As it has, since for some reason I never…

Spellbinding

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If she weaves words that are true enough

Late July

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The cicadas struck their soundsTheir ribs made a clicking drumThe sound was formed over buckling ribsvibrations sounds like a maracas bangle beatingShe sat up in a lounge chair trying to sleepThe tiny ants she found tickling her armThey crawled from some hole…

That Pill

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It’s good to have some, Extra weight - Something they can Grab on to, In the sheets, When it’s late-

moms

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a few Hershey's Kisses tucked in with the note