Most discussed stories

Awaiting What the Afternoon May Bring

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Another siege/ with kamikaze fervor.

My Kentucky Fried Ascension (Memoir)

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...as a boy I rode once in an elevator with Colonel Sanders...

Last Bell

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Coward, cuckold, she taunts: So be it. He's not a young man anymore, nor as clever as he once was, or thought.

Argoyle

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He extended his bent arm to its full length with a crack, straightened his hunched body and tried, and failed, to close his lips over his frightening grimace. Stone lips are not pliable.

Sobriety Group

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The Sobriety Group met at four every Wednesday night, just in time for the seven members to get a good table at Patrick's bar to drink beer by six. “Beer's not really even alcohol,” laughed one and then all. …

Honey

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Cellulite is legal to have, either way.

3 Good Hubcaps - song

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I got 3 good hubcaps That oughta be enough You can take away my house You can take away my stuff Just leave it on the curbside With my beat-up Cadillac Got my 3 good hubcaps I ain’t never coming back

Subsistence Culture

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Defy the impulse to grow beyond/ your means and the means of the/ place where you lie at night.

With My Eye

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my space heater throws a pale orange light my white candles flicker in the middle of the night

634 Orchards, fruits & forestry

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The juice that stays on my neck when you tip me back, catching me in an alleyway, holding me upright as the oranges tumble and strike the backs of my knees. You cup your strong-smelling, sticky-soft fingers around my ear and say let's blow this city.

The Magician

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He now knew the impossible to be possible.

Boringer's Theory

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If Simpkin believed in reincarnation, which he did not, as he was a philosopher, not a religious fanatic, he might have thought he was Boringer reincarnated.

Signs and Wonders

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Bag worms hang in their cloudy white hammocks. This is the month of webs when long-bodied yellow and black spiders sign their autographs.

SYCAMORE STREET MORNING

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"S- E- X -- ever heard of it?"

Trout Fishing in America Shorty lives on after the death of his dear friend Richard Brautigan, though sadly

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Maybe, after years of writing poems like letters, he began to notice that no one ever wrote him back.

Love Meal #3009

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His knife enters the Maui onion. He minces garlic and applies heat to pan and melts sweet cream butter and browns the garlic first and then he adds the onion and more heat, but it's time that will surely caramelize them. Salt and pepper and splashes of wine for the pan and…

Let x

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Let x equal the moment just after he tells her he's starting a club for people who know something about computers.It is summer, 1984, and this is their grade school playground. She is idling on a swing over a patch of scuffed earth. He stands just off to the side, one…

Texas Was Better

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The buds were red--it seemed they were dying at the beginning. I had no idea what fall would be--bright fish composing on Beethoven Street.

Rejection

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I hate math. I hate everything about it.

The River of the Parched Spirit

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anxiety said Kierkegaard is the dizziness of freedom

The Clod and the Pebble

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“Lightning has more longevity than I,”

Fragment from an Untelevised Revolution

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My wife has gone in Laos to translate foreign tongues, and I await the day when I too may leave.

Pit Stop

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I was more annoyed at the scream, the icy air around us and our eventual destination–his parents, the club, small talk, all that drunken insignia.

August and After Haiku

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The brown grackle chirps/ as she chomps a plump cricket-/ melodious meal.

Henry Ground

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Henry Ground was a healthy and well adjusted English man who excelled at chess and folk dancing. One day, for no apparent reason, he decided to fill his guinea pig with helium. He carried the animal under the light of the stars into the shed at the bottom of his garden.…

Brief Studies of Doomed Females

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She is unsure if it will work, despite all her reading of physics and flying carpets and propeller planes. The practicalities of aerodynamics in application remain to be tested.

Luck Dragon.

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:)

1888: Mrs. Sherwood

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It's gone too long since her Robby Sherwood's dreams rose through the tenement chimney into pear-sweet clouds. Once was he planned histories, carried herself over slopes of hesitations to the night meadow, soft-skinned and whispered. Her man shouldered…

In the Garden

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It will always be this way/ won’t it, she said. Me insecure, you unfaithful

How to Stop Doing and Be

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Monday will come soon enough to get/ what needs to be done, done.