Most read stories

Second verse, same as the first

19711971 views22 comments22 favs

Most people assume I’m gay, and have assumed I’m gay since I was in fifth grade. Maybe sooner. Maybe fifth grade is just my first memory of recognizing what other people believed true about me. But coming out as a gay man in 1987, when I was in fifth gra

New Questions of Travel

19711971 views2626 comments1818 favs

Watching water fall in the longest waterfall/ becomes immediately tedious

New Moon

19711971 views66 comments33 favs

circa the early 90s, Buzz Aldrin and my father had been invited to a dinner at someone's house on Bainbridge Island and gotten lost.

Carlos The Impossible (Part 1)

19711971 views22 comments11 fav

And so the deal was struck. It was arranged that the empresario for the Plaza Mexico would buy the giant bull from Button for Hernando to fight. Come the Fiesta de la Fuerza Irresistible, the Great One would meet the bull that was born of a thunderclap at

Blink

19701970 views44 comments22 favs

He stands straighter and walks toward the phone in the back, near the bathrooms. His wet sock slaps loudly against the tile floor. The buzz of conversation dims to whispers, barely audible above the roar of the espresso machine.

The 2nd poem.

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You came to me In the self made calm Causing quite a storm You want me to rejoice and relax? Not knowing my fears Shall we ever fly?

The Greatest Narcissist on Earth

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I forgot how masterful you are, way better than a pickpocket. After our meeting, I drove home with one hand. It felt funny but I figured I'd absentmindedly put the other in my purse or tossed it into the backseat with my jacket. In my…

Mother Died Tomorrow

19701970 views1919 comments1313 favs

memories that no longer make sense

February Fifth

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We've worked silence over / Like pros, our best work together.

Alice

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Alice writes three different versions of the letter. The last one is the most tempered, the most like her, but still it is such an unlike-her thing to do. The couple who lives above her has been disrupting her sleep nearly every night for the past three weeks. The woman's…

Capture This Thing

19701970 views99 comments44 favs

Take it from inside you and draw it out. Do it before it decides you are not what you seem to be and, as a result, holds you up by the thumbs.

Child's Play Brings Back Memories of Busted Heads for Greying Protestor

19691969 views88 comments33 favs

"My boy Jake fell in with a bad crowd when he went to college," Coffelt says, shaking his head. "A bunch of accounting majors."

The Caveman Attends the Symphony Without His Club

19691969 views88 comments33 favs

“Would you consider renewing for the next season?” “We’re not interested.” “Can I ask you why?” I considered my reply. I was thinking of mincing my words. The man on the other end of the line seemed, how should I put this, somewhat s

Uterus

19691969 views1919 comments1111 favs

I describe mine as uterine-based hysteria or Sex Test.

Lethargy

19691969 views55 comments22 favs

‘Your hands are very clean’ she said to the furniture salesman. His name was Morrison. "After Jim" Morrison Pentworthy. His father specialized in Doors.

Witness

19691969 views1515 comments99 favs

The violin hung on the wall after that, a witness.

Resolutions

19691969 views33 comments33 favs

Portions of my heart and bones

Potsdamer Strasse

19681968 views33 comments33 favs

She stared unbreakingly, confident, knowing; and talked so close to my face I felt cornered. But her voice was something, low and smooth.

Bad Heart

19681968 views2020 comments1313 favs

You died from a bad heart.

The Trench

19681968 views3838 comments1717 favs

His face was cold and hard as marble. Rudy’s angular features shuddered and twitched in the darkness.

All Fur and Bones

19681968 views00 comments11 fav

I wonder how much time she has left. I think she’s seventeen. I don’t know for sure because she was already grown when I got her from the pound, just before Christmas, years ago this was --back when I had hair and hope.

Holding Hands in Public

19681968 views55 comments00 favs

Take my hand. Take my hand and we will sail through the atmosphere leaving trails of rainbow speckled life written in musical notes behind us. We can go anywhere you want, whenever you wish. The moon in 1974. I hear the earth looks gorgeous during the seventies.…

Love Story, a Sequel

19681968 views2121 comments1111 favs

He hid in parks and abandoned apartment houses until his wounds healed. He ate nuts, berries, and seeds. A shy, gentle soul, he watched children playing on the monkey bars, and thought of his lost youth.

Stay. Sit. Listen.

19681968 views2121 comments99 favs

There is a small church in the south of Italy, with a stained-glass window depicting the sister of John The Baptist.

Truth at a Bonsai Booth

19681968 views99 comments55 favs

I envisioned bound feet of ancient Asian women who wore embroidered slippers that hid grotesque disfigurements.

A Taste For Music

19671967 views22 comments00 favs

“Nothing we have here can stop them,” the Lumi said, “We were hoping there might be something in your world we might try.” “Even if we had something, how would I get it to you? ”We are working on that, in the meantime, will you help us?” I

Three Photos

19671967 views33 comments00 favs

The first photo above shows plainly: five children dressed in suits and dresses. There are three girls. Each girl wears a yellow sundress with chiffon ribbons. The boys have been terrorizing them--the girls, not the dresses.

How To Train Mules

19671967 views88 comments66 favs

“Mules don’t like to dive, Esther.” “I said maybe, Hugh. Maybe.”

Like An Endless Rain

19671967 views22 comments11 fav

Fate could have sent me any number of Sergeant-Detectives, but fate sent me one of Boston’s finest, Sergeant-Detective Sheila Magnuson. Aside from being a little undernourished Sheila Magnuson is possibly the world’s most beautiful Sergeant-Detective.

Fatuous Dialogue #1

19671967 views1818 comments1313 favs

—Was it true, what you wrote in that poem? —Pretty true. —What do you mean “pretty true”? Was it true or wasn’t it? —It was as close as you get to truth in poems.