Most discussed stories

Ripening

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My face turns to promise more, but my insides are browning.

a few of my favorite beacons of hope and tenderness

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life is a lucky thing, bountiful among the drugs and flowers

I Wish There Was A Way

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To still make Emily smile. Even Today. On the street where Paper lives and works I'm Making this small effort out Of a few stray letters and An attitude like a chip On the kicked about shoulder. I don't Know, I think she deserves it. …

Playing Dead - a poem

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A foolish rich man liked to pretend he had died To see who in the audience would be dry-eyed

Krauts and Doubts

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Moral Dilemmas at Harvard

To Live It Again

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She began guiding Penny’s arms, whispering movements through her body. Memory and experience sang through every fiber of their being. The song had become her life.

Forever Four-Eyed

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I'm a librarian. A reader. I identify as a four-eyed person. I've always worn glasses. I got my first pair in the second grade. It was a miracle! The blurry world I'd inhabited all my life suddenly came into focus. I could see the blackboard! I could read street signs! I…

Billy Jack Plays Catcher in The Rye Across The Twilight Zone

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It's been the longest thirty hours of my life.

point

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Man Resting On Tires, NYC

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A man asleep on a stack of tires in front of a tire shop on 10th Aveune, NYC. A store that’s “open 25 hrs,” where apparently time is being manufactured. The unknown new element, the 25th hour, even though the other 24 may have been shortened som

Reaction

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Fingers of angry red welts crossed his face and neck.

Alluvion

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Quicksand

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God damn you women get me all / twisted up thinking oohrahrah and lala

Banana Creme Pies for Sixty Percents

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Suddenly the auditory havoc dies down and she falls into a loop, saying BANANA CREME PIES FOR SIXTY PERCENTS over and over.

When the Well Runs Dry

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and the moon shines on like a silver dollar and coyotes in the desert scream and holler

My Drunk Friend

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My drunk friend is built like a hastily packed trash bag; full of lumps and portending very dark things.

White Moon Between Two Yellow Trees

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the moment love endures is the moment we disperse

Flash Fiction With Instructions

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The protagonist’s story goes like this: 1.) You are young. You’ll get over it.

Safe

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Safe does not ride horses at sunsetSnorkel in MolokaiRaft down a swollen river.It does not steal kisses in a darkened theaterTouch the inside of a thigh under a restaurant table.Safe does not declare war.It chooses dinner every night at sixMass every SundayConfession once a…

Truth Or Consequence

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Mass media thought control, from consumer advertising to political sloganeering, is creating a new generation of irrational thinkers. If this trend continues, one day soon we may find ourselves under the control of some genius gone haywire.

Our Sister's Boyfriend

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-for Franz, the least understood comedian of all We all knew that Marissa's college boyfriend was ugly — there was the way she answered our mother's pestering "Is he cute?" with a stalling "Um, well..." and then there was the fact that she hadn't posted any photos…

Consider the Living

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we're not at war / with the world. We have papers.

Fairytale Initiations

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I'm sucking in the environment

The Mud Slicks at Low Tide

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The mud slicks at low tide were a mood.Thick gobs that smelled of fish, sulfur and claysalt and wild seaweed like fungusmoldy like left out fruityet it drew her closerto the shorelinecloser to feelingit between her toesthick, squirtsas her feet liftedlike a suction cupand…

Sweden 1958, I-IV

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didn't know how to do it just tried to squeeze on the teats didn't know I had to grab up on the udder and pull Unca Ole laughed

Ah, the Trouble (Has Finally Arrived)

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with all these little battle worn pieces of history surrounding us all the time is that they don't really make up for the terrible news of just now. Those people showed us what they showed us. Good for them.We're the direct explosion of their…

Emotional and Overheated Words Online Reviewers Of Lava Lamps Might Wish They Could Take Back

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“In retrospect, perhaps I should ask my renter’s insurance to cover damage from lava lamp discharges. But I am not a person who enjoys a fracas.”

Late Eulogy

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We wished it had been murder./ It’s easier to hate for hurtfulness/ One you never knew.

Lord of the Poets

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I almost caught a poet today.

At a supermarket checkout looking through a window on May Day.

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So I missed the May Day parade again.