Most discussed stories

What's that on your glasses?

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The shit just doesn't want to come off.

Homeless Haiku

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All I want is a

Bar at East Capitol Road

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My friend, drunk, spoke to me / outside a bar where we hung out; / and his eyes were red from tiredness,

My Mother Was a Bluebird - song

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My mother was a bluebird Who flew from tree to tree My father was a pilot Who flew right over me Her soul is still living There upon my tree My dad’s evaporated Right in front of me My brother’s soul has wandered Far away I see I

Scar

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Since Patty got the lumpectomy, she won’t sleep with anyone but Cal, because he was the one who went with her to the hospital and wasn’t surprised when he saw the scar.

The Ache of Logic

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There is a the reason for the theft of people and the melting of gold

A Sudden Keen Nostalgia

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Junior year, word got around that Eric had lost his virginity to his sophomore girlfriend. She rode him on the back seat of his car. Eric wasn't keen to discuss it - he seemed to feel a certain blushing shame. It was almost as if he was raped.Eric was a scientist, first and…

Still

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Later

Atoms of Sleep

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From the compass of the self the unifying leap,gravitate gently, atoms that sleep,to where mystery reclines and solution must rise,but only for a fraction a lifetime implies.No sphere sympathetic to station or throne.All peripatetic. No flesh. No bone.Nothing to…

Now We're Getting Somewhere

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Woman bites into pearl, finds baby oyster. Woman bites baby oyster, finds baby pearl. Woman blows on baby pearl, it begins to grow. Woman gets excited. Now we’re getting somewhere, she says.

The Martyr

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She sees her mother the Sunday after Zoe discovered her seven-week-old creation, like a chewed gingerbread man with red icing, in the toilet bowl beneath her.

Block Island Sound

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So I’ll wait for her to clear all burden from her head and feel the ocean move us. Stand up, walk over to me and kiss me as we glided through open water.

Confiding in the Airsick Bag

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In row nine, there was a lady on the window seat. Seeing the potential of space between us, I asked, “Mind if I take this one?” “Not at all” she said as if she hadn't a friend in the world, apart from the poor bastard now sitting in seat 9D.

A Little Piece of Humanity

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It wasn't meant to happen like this— the shutter, the feeling of breathlessness when he touched her shoulder, even after he had pointed out all of the things she had done incorrectly throughout the day. They had been married for five years in February, and as…

A Record Setting Year

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it felt fucking awesome at that moment, in that way only little things can feel huge and life affirming

Joe

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Nephew Joe, my old brother's son, came to fix our pipes. Strapping, strapless, hairless, tanned, he clinked with gold. He came out to us over the pipes... drip drip...I just wanted them fixed pronto. He took precious time. He cried...drip drip...I wanted him to stop. My…

the way you make me feel

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out in space/ platonic forms/ dazzle with/ voluptuous grace

The Philosophy of Charlie Parker

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If the sky is charcoal, it's laundry day. If it's cornflower blue, it's football in the empty square behind the school. If it's white like duck feathers, Hinckle Finckle will visit. If it's burnished gold, it's oscar wieners for dinner (we love oscar…

Fuck with death....again.

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The grenadier moans in his sleep. He’s making love with a dead brown woman. A small, bone thin woman with heavy milk full breast. A dead child’s milk.

Y.

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We are the generation who tattoo our stories on our bodies, who pierce what appears impenetrable; we fly our scars like pennants.

The Duck Economy

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It's early spring and rains leave miniature ponds not deep but attractive to a Drake and Mallard pair moving into the neighborhood settling quacking down. Not sensing transience in their comfortable puddle they get on swimmingly bottom…

Tinsel

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1. It started coming down in flakes. The room was warm and the windows were double insulated, but she was naked and her body was being dressed in snow. He stood over her with the spray can. Maybe you can be the Christmas tree this year. You won't keep me till Christmas she…

Phantasmagoria

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I sit in my chemise like a forgotten rag doll on the stool before my vanity. My body is postured towards nothing in particular, my gaze keeps returning to vacant; it’s far preferable to any fixed sight it could find.

Two poems

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I cut myself. Often. The bloodslice like thin lips parted/in prayer. life’s color drained to ashen/as the old world spins, pirouettes/like a circus dog on the back/of a galloping horse.

Nude Ascending the Stairway to Heaven

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Whoever told us that truth-telling was so wonderful, when we can plainly see that lying is the way to get results?

The Perfect Note

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Everything needs context, otherwise reality would be nothing more than stardust with a spark.

Go Running Up That Hill

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Better move ‘cause I hear them comin’ up the other side.

Professional Judgment

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Biting my tongue instead of lashing red stripes

2011

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This year, 2011, you bring about my thirtieth year. I'm apprehensive about this, but mainly because my father made me watch "Logan's Run" as a kid...

Swan Song of the Pareto Optimalists

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I nearly burst out laughing when I heard myself telling him in my accented English that she’d confided in me that she was preparing to sacrifice herself as part of an elaborate snuff film produced by a band of psychotic artists hell-bent on making up for