Recommended stories

Three short-shorts

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Wake up! But it was already too late for Charles.

The Coming Cunts

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The first band I was ever in was called the Coming Cunts. Coming wasn’t spelled with a “u” because we thought the phrase would come off too transgressive.

Worry

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I turned on the television last night, and one of the networks had a segment about a girl with no nose.

Forgive Me, Leonard Cohen

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There’s a price / on everything

far beyond

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far beyond the far beyond sparkles the stars like sparkles

Sid's Girls

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Sid, the owner of the red convertible, always slept with his twin Lhasa Apsos, Helpless and Hopeless. He was an early riser and took his “girls”, as he called them, out for a brief walk, yes, and also he was up early to take his morning penicillin because he…

This isn’t Silverlake anymore

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I hear the slightly scratched voice of Joan Baez coming from the record player singing about the junipers in the pale moonlight, applause erupting like hailstone on a corrugated iron roof. I am singing back through the bedroom wall, wishing the

Questions of Ownership

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Who owns the moon? What title search/ could ever make a claim?

No Hay Bandaid

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Pain is the saddle which rides me Pain is the cowboy's gun More morphing, please!

Cut

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Effluvium is such a lovely word, so hey surprise it covers rancid butter, vomit, fertile gingko fruit trekked in from the pavement.

The Olivetti, the Bomb, and Why I Got My Degree in Economics

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The revolution. It found me, and I didn’t even get blown by the bomb.

Sunday Morning Series- 4: Roast Lamb of God

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Squeeze the Word into Flesh

Mad Max

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When his wife left him, a friend told him that resentments were like canceled checks. You weren't going to get your money back.

Pot-shots- an Octet for the New Year

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Maybe all quarterbacks are shitwads.

When a Bowl Hits a Tree

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You would think when a bowl hits a tree the sound would be fierce, a loud clatter as stoneware explodes on birch bark dispersing shards in daffodils and grape muscari, but the noise is gentle, a thudding clink like empty bourbon bottles rattling hollow in…

Imago Mundi

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in which creative destruction holds the heads of entire populations beneath the surface of the water in bathtubs until the bubbles stop

Let Us Pretend

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"Perhaps a divorce?" she continues, thinking of his thin, long hands and how they almost, not quite, but almost, made their usual pattern on her body, remembering having queried many men on what their most erotic sexual encounter was and found that the an

Work Room

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the constant inner jabber

Vivian

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When her husband left she was not yet thirty

Original Sin

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The sirens didn’t eat the sailors

Conspiracy

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I was convinced that enemy bombers were on the way.

Ballpoint Sketches for Banana Peel Poems

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I wanna make banana peel poems-- slippery little booby traps

Book Review: Cinema Verite’ a book of poems by Sam Rasnake

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Cinema Verite’ is the best book of poems I have encountered since Matthea Harvey’s Modern Life

Burn

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I should have known to wear boots on Teddy’s motorcycle, but I didn’t know that when the engine heated the exhaust pipe became hot as a griddle. Teddy didn’t warn me, and I thought there was something wrong with that, but I let it go the way I jumped on h

Cheat Sheets

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I decided to cheat on my husband the day the washing machine broke. It was Darrell's fault, anyway. If he hadn't tried to wash the dog in the Maytag, none of this would've happened. It just goes to show that a man who forsakes the normal use of a househol

Lesson Plan

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Maybe tonight, maybe next week,/ maybe only in my waking dreams,/ I’ll teach another lesson-

Oh, Baby!

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One of the drunk men, a dear friend, hunk, as he updated me, now living the existence of a poet, called from San Francisco to say he would take the plane to Minneapolis, do it, then leave me to raise the baby.

Cairn

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Your cairns/ are litter in the streets

If Everything is Inevitable

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Christine comes back from the future looking tired, which is the opposite of what I expected. For some reason, I imagined the future as being invigorating. But she walks into the apartment and abandons her suitcase by the front door, collapses into a heap on the couch next…

This is the Wild Place I was Telling You About

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I want youto remember me. This the placewhere I'll always be, if you're looking hard enough.This is the place I've letgo of all expectations, no regrets, and nomasks. This the place my heartbobbs about like a…