Most discussed stories

Unpublished

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tiny thoughts

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what if I die?

Better Boys, Early Girls

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... tomatoes swelling and turning pink...

In the Hamptons

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Class differences in New York (and if you believe F. Scott Fitzgerald, in America, generally) are best viewed from the beach.

Bloodless

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You're nothing. You're wallpaper. You're carpet.

Wahrheit und Dichtung

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When I was eight years old, I stepped into / a snow bank in Pennsylvania and sank / in over my head

Getting There

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The monarchs that migrate to Mexico and California in the autumn every year live for only a month.

Rock On

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...fancy the idea of tapas, Spain an' all.

2 empty pipes rattling with passion

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i could make swamp boys believe / under dust-sheets stiffened by ice

The crack

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I put my mouth to it and said hello hello hello.

One Poem, Eight Rejections

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Do you suppose you could make your female protagonist a salamander rather than a human?

The seasons, it is said...

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Knot Eye

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The diagnosis was peculiar, the doctors agreed, / but so was the condition

Drinking an Orange Julius While Listening to Pink Floyd

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I was strapped for cache

Nutrition

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I will gobble them like tiny men, missions and things to prove.

Hyde Confronts Jekyll’s Position on a Current Affair

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I would fly drones with hydrochloric acid sprays/ over their squadrons and watch the disfigurement/ begin. I love disfigurement...

October

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Optical Delusion

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Veiled by tenuous clouds and dirty air,

The Planet Will Be Fine without Us

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The planet will be fine without us as it was/ when the Permian extinction made the goo/ that made the Rockefellers wealthy.

Diversion

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A landscape has the tendency to take on new dimensions when night comes.

Extracurricular

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Later I take his hand, and I lead him up the stairs. I want to show him something, I say.

Before the Door

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You just can’t believe your key / won’t open the front door anymore.

Ah Ha!

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His head was usually full of ah ha!, a luminescence that folded around obstacles like smoke.

Itch

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Clayton had a grin like the hand of a beast that stretched as long as her gravel road...

That Particular Diamond

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looking space packed right in up therelike a sun bleached kite stuck in between the several bluish colorsof the sky today has its ownamazing heartbeat. I can seeit clearly from here. Oh I can feel it reverberating for miles andmiles. If I look away it…

Glory

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A woman’s hair is her crowning glory, my grandmother always said.

Ennui of Wings

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Does flight exhilarate the sparrows

Woman, Running Late, in a Dress

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Gasps and shouts, a hand on my arm, sequined gowns and expensive colognes parting before me. And then, there, Raymond’s crumpled form on the hardwood floor of the foyer, like a sleeve torn from a jacket, the stitches frayed and useless.

The Loss of a Child

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I watched as the light fled from your eyes, No slowly dimming lamp,

The Literary Writer (Female) and Sex

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When last June V.S. Naipaul remarked "women writers are different, they are quite different. I read a piece of writing and within a paragraph or two I know whether it is by a woman or not. I think [it is] unequal to me...My publisher, who was so good as a