Most discussed stories

Bum on a Stoop in Paris with a Bald Head in the Rain

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Bum on a Parisian stoop begging with his big Jackson Pollack bare head in the rain The water running in streaks all over his brain Reminding him of a painting He once thought of Keep going, you’re coming back again. Get out of the car wrec

The barbarian at the gate, a work in progress

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I may even invite the little man, who lives in the closet, to come out and visit me: Come over here, pleasure me, let me sit on your pink latex face.

Ask the Language Monitor

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A woman I work with is always going on about her daughter is an expert water-skier and has a collection of antique thimbles and makes prize-winning congo bars.

Excelsior - A Poem in 9 Parts (post 3 of 5)

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IV. From Hoover Dam The intent of passive presence wreathes an endless ring, Invisible, beyond all thoughts and change to sickness. This hour beats sibylline as vacancy, breathing Through mouths that do not taste their nothingness. I do not know where you are;…

Discards

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Church-lady dresses with matching jackets

My Life as a Part-Time Rapist, Full- Time Comedian

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The rapist was caught on December 23rd, the day before Christmas Eve. Everyone in town was surprised to learn he had a wife and two children; a son and a daughter, the same age, and a yellow Labrador retriever.

Shadow Man

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Words are not like bricks. The neighborhood flowers from within the rituals that enframe the drinking of a macchiato in a café. Now it hovers over the page.

Sometimes everything is depthless.

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There is some debate about what kind of twins they are. It’s a fissure between aesthetics and science.

Marilyn in Ottawa

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I looked away. Why embarrass the Ottawa woman? Why make her uncomfortable? The polite thing is to move on, forget about it. Stare at the sidewalk not yet wet but becoming wet. Be Canadian.

The Comedian

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Sitting near her desk, like a dunce cap, red

Close/Far

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If you were glassI'd fog you up With my breathI'd leave messagesPictographsIn fingerprints I'd press in closeSo would youAnd so we'd danceBut you are glassAn inch of depthTo catch my breath

Fruits of Passion

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Lifting a pear wedge to my lips, I hesitate and dip it into my bourbon instead. I notice a tiny sphere of liquid, suspended, glistening with the flame of the candle. The sweet, subtle scent tantalizes my senses. Careless, sticky fingers bring movement.…

Where in daytime nothing is

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I had imagined what it must be like / out there in the middle place

The Funeral

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Over the years, Morgana had grown. She was so much more than what Xavier remembered. So much different. She had an astute, almost shrewd air about her. She didn't seem nearly as fragile as he had left her. No, she had an eye out for herself now.…

on the shore on the shore

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I await, here at Sandymount Strand / There's a stony bed and moistened sand / Couples dance away into futurity / With their dogs upon the shore

Clockwork and Sex Appeal

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And her life runs like clockwork. And the kids wouldn’t get to school without her, and the paychecks wouldn’t arrive and the taxes wouldn’t get paid. And she listens to religion and country and God telling her how to run her life, what to do and when. B

The Man Inside

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...her facial twitches, gasps and whines, her moments of trapped silence.

Illinois Route 3

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If this road could answer I would ask her what it is like to follow the path of the rippleshimmery river for too many miles through the slowly ghosting towns and the corncovered landscapes of the dying Midwest

Fundamentals

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You can have two threes, or three twos. I hear the beat both ways. It goes back and forth in my head, like magic, transforming from one to the other and back again. And I am learning the basics of music theory, and painting geometric shapes with primary colors. I am…

My Search for The First Snowman

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This was my quest for over 6 years. It would deplete my bank account, test my marriage and get me in with a lot cool celebrities.

Event Particle 12

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The snow buzzes in the Ritalin air beneath Dairy Queen clouds

The Young Hate the Old

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The old hate the young. Robe exposed monks do not Hate mosquitoes. It is one. It is one hand. It is on. Mountains don't hate sky. The rich hate the poor. The poor hate the rich. The parade of scholars hate the …

Skype's Not for Losers. Really.

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Inner Charlie

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When Charlie woke up he couldn’t find his inner Charlie.

Beside the Swing Set

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Julie had a thousand freckles the color of mud.

Billie Holiday Visits Her Song

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Why you keep a razor blade in your stocking?

Surprise!

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We were fleeing hurricane Katrina. We stopped somewhere in Texas at a roadside diner, but found a sign that said it was closed. We were so hungry. All of a sudden as we sat there in our car, the shop's owner knocked on the window and asked what he could g

My Alice

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My story begins where so many have ended, strapped fast to a cold table, just moments from a lobotomy needle and anything resembling the man that I am.

Strength

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Begonia {part one}

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The sun was so upset that immediately he pulled his blanket over his face and cried out of worry. His blanket, of course was made of clouds and his tears made up the rain. The sun was very right to be frightened, as were the flowers to wither, for the Kin