Most discussed stories

All the Young Angel Heads

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I don't think you understand. A sad boy doesn't just die inside, slowly, he becomes withdrawn from certain types of lovely youthful reasoning out loud, accustomed to feeling what is expected, graded, just to be allowed to survive another…

Paul Gauguin: Annah la Javanaise

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It's the outrage of the red monkey at her feet, And the nude thirteen-year-old woman sitting upright In the blue velvet chair, and the hints of blue at her navel, And at her lips and belly and crotch, that so upset Paris. Gauguin had his nerve

Fire Alarm

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You snore and the house is safe again.

Your Guide to Wi-Fi Security

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Public Wi-Fi ”hotspots” allow men and women to ogle each other discreetly while pretending to write the Great American Novel.

Regret

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Regret takes the shape of little clouds ...

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.

Trees and Strangers

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The summer I was eleven years old....

Irish Drunk

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Your honour stinks of failed fishing trips to Galway.

On Tuesday

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When they talk, they put their hands like a cup around their mouth

Bring on the Drones!

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Never mind that they cost millions per year just to amuse the monkey bone in us all or that they spew pollution or that their only real purpose is murder. They are justified by skill and thrill.

Truth at a Bonsai Booth

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I envisioned bound feet of ancient Asian women who wore embroidered slippers that hid grotesque disfigurements.

My Heroes Now Are Robots

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I understand why Warhol said/ “I want to be a machine.”/ Forget this sorry clay.

Heart of Hearts

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In half-dreams she saw a pale alchemist kneeling before a stitched together abomination, witchcraft and science merged, mocking God’s fire.

Erasing Traherne

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19. You never know yourself till you know the dust. 51. Treasures are the ligatures between our wants and love. 33. Truth is able to turn one's stomach.

In a Pinch

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His worst nightmare had come true. He wasn't wearing green and all of the other kids were.

Bibliophagy

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he knows that his wife knows. she can smell the adverbs on his tongue in the mornings. but he cannot get through another evening in that house without consonants.

Scottish Independence

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with peaty aromatics, opened,/ and a welcomed sting, swallowed,

Books

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It sometimes happens a student remains a friend long after you both have abandon academe.

Call Me

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The woman took a small note card from her purse and wrote on it. She then stood, handed the card to the doctor, and said, “Call me.”

Realizing I Have Not Moved From My Bed for Two Days

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Quite frankly you are ruining my life. / I know you don’t mean to, but you are.

Beneath the Rise and Murmur of Your Voice

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Beneath the rise and murmur of your voicethere lies a hush more rapid than the silence meets within your eyes; the ghosts of cloudfall also meet them there. Your tongue has murmurs more than I can hear just now, for here my ears are met with something…

Ponchatoula Tulip

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You could call it love.

The girl, whose hair was red, green and yellow

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There were trees where I lived and clean pavement

Mosaic

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MOSAIC Your eyes coal-rimmed, busted, burned by betrayal. You and I, knee to knuckle, skinny with disorders and blurred around our edges. Challenged by our experience and the ash of past-love dusting the grate, the state, the…

Warthearm

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‘Look, look, Quark. Look here. Warthearm. A shiny warthearm.’ Maz was on his elbows and knees, his fat ass sticking out in their air like two cannon-balls ready to be shot off. He was peering at a long, shapeless earthworm, its skin translucent and i

Memories of the Beach

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The smell of Coppertone Suntan Lotion always brings back memories of the beach. I remember you rubbing it on my stomach and you kept moving lower and lower. I had on a bikini bottom (very daring) and you rubbed your finger all along the rim of it just a

Amelia

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Every time she tries to sleep they come; legions of small armored things scuttle claws aloft across the purple sand as soon as she stops moving.

Too Late

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He brought me kisses from New York.

C.S.I. #14

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I had dreams of being permeated with the heat of Caramelized sisters. A declawed cat kept creeping along my apartment walls.

juvenile haiku

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leaves of a season/float into a brook among/bubbles fit to burst.