Most read stories

Cymbals

16521652 views00 comments00 favs

On stage, students from the junior college join children from the community to speak and sing in American-French accents. They are timid, heart-broken, in love, rebellious, faithful, resigned to their fates—and all in the matter of a few short hours.

The Bridge

16521652 views22 comments11 fav

The Bridge Barstow had not wanted to listen to Griff. Griff was not making the right decisions, or he thought Griff was not making the right decisions. Thought he was walking a…

The Tree That Took Brooke’s Faith Away

16521652 views55 comments33 favs

The thing was, though, she couldn’t shake the image of that dead dog she had found inside the black trash bag she thought could be first base, right before the twins said, Screw the game, let’s swing.

At Night in the Field

16521652 views1010 comments66 favs

“Ol’ Betty has a nice set of headlights,” he says with a wink as he springs out of the recliner.

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 12

16511651 views22 comments11 fav

But Von Rotten was up in Penny’s room right this minute, either banging her or haranguing her, or worse, both. I envisioned him with her, and my guts began twisting and turning, and my insides fell into my shoes. What had I done? She was being held capt

Prologue: April 16, 1970

16511651 views11 comment11 fav

The muster zone was south of U.S. 119, off the Halleck Road. The search began on a large parcel, some 75 acres of farmland, property of one Mr. Shakelford. Shakelford had allowed the earth to go wild; brush, thistle and small…

Mania

16511651 views44 comments22 favs

To Charles Bukowski "I haven't shat or pissed in seven years," she tells him, negotiating each word around the Marlboro. Because he doesn't know what else to say, Isaiah asks, "Haven't you seen a …

Poems I posted on social media, late night, when I was drunk.

16511651 views77 comments55 favs

my God, I have no time, no time

the wicked daughter

16511651 views22 comments11 fav

The air has its dark confessional, and I have mine. Hot is called raw by some, hate mixed with malice for others. I am only separated by this dark window of time from you, but you never feared the lovely or the lonely.

All the Broken People

16511651 views1919 comments1414 favs

We all// fall short and fail.

The Room Below

16511651 views11 comment11 fav

The closed door swallowed up both voices, and all I could make out afterward were muffled pleas and angry answers that died completely.

Snowed In

16511651 views1818 comments1212 favs

“ I told you what she said, that she liked me better when I was drinking. Well, that's the way I feel, too. I liked her better when I was drinking.”

Certainty

16511651 views00 comments00 favs

All I know about the futureis that every one alwaysgets to exactly where they are.

The Galleries

16511651 views2020 comments1111 favs

We invent our beauties// as we find them and engineer/ our horrors

Cream Base Neutral Tan

16501650 views22 comments11 fav

Face defined-front part of head Cybil's eyes stick to a mirror and guard the woman's skin. The woman's image could be the result of uncontrolled narcissism, yet dry wrinkles are visible from her reflection. Disguise cream covers some of the woman's c

Cats Do It Doggie Style

16501650 views22 comments11 fav

Xao Ping reflexively dug her claws into the plush chenille of the sofa and let out a low yowl. She knew the old lady would be mad if she tore the fabric, but she couldn’t help it.

Not Yeatsian

16501650 views55 comments22 favs

Didn't he have like a frog No lips so speak of, and the weathered lizard Look of the frequently face-lifted?

Second Chance

16501650 views33 comments22 favs

He arrives at the appointed hour, driving up the dusty road in his '68 Ford truck. On the side is stenciled “Sampson's Farrier Service.” He parks in front of the barn. Patience watches from the front porch, where she has just set down a…

The Investigator

16501650 views77 comments44 favs

The investigator starts by accumulating facts, as many facts as he can. He sifts through them with meticulous precision, leaving no leaf unturned, no page unread.

Campbell & Evans

16501650 views11 comment11 fav

He laughed – pictures traveled across his mind of bodies and mouths and the sex and the liquor, he could taste the flesh and the alcohol right then, strong, immediate.

Instructions for Opening a Document Found in a Black Cabinet

16501650 views77 comments22 favs

When the black cloth falls on you all food tastes like airline food. Every song sounds like Barry Manilow. Every poem sounds like Rod McKuen. It’s all just noise to you now.

Getting Sideways On Douglas

16501650 views00 comments00 favs

Under the dirty orange glow of sodium streetlights, the glistening pavement looks slick, but it’s only just wet. The mid-November temperature is cool—quite mild, actually, for this late time of year—still hovering in the upper 30s—so far posing only the

TITLE

16501650 views22 comments00 favs

Someone had shown me a page on the internet where writers could have their stories analyzed, seeing whose work their piece was similar to. Normally, I only went on the computer to find apartment listings and pornography.

Pectoralis Minor

16501650 views11 comment11 fav

Her thumbs tucked beneath the waistline of her pants, slightly pulling them down to expose the eternity between belly button and bliss. I looked up at her as I slid my tongue along the rail of her hip, sucking at its point.

Drive, you sd, for christ's sake

16501650 views1111 comments55 favs

This weekend was supposed to be about intellect and soul-mating, but, like all others, it's turned into body and longing. You sit in my passenger seat and I let you smoke in my wee car with the windows rolled down. We've come from a wedding, a fairy ring, a…

Our Love

16501650 views11 comment22 favs

I am tired of playing the old game: Saying something old in a new way. So let me do the opposite:

Halfway Out The Door

16491649 views55 comments33 favs

She asks if I only write about men, which I tell her is redundant. I also answer, “Yes, but sometimes I write about them as race cars, hyenas, vaginas, or God.” She smirks like she wants to smile, but it’s stuck halfway out her door. Her happiness has

Wasps' Nest

16491649 views1313 comments77 favs

Here’s how you do it. First you get a ladder, a long one.

Syrup

16491649 views77 comments44 favs

Things aren't going to get better are they? Would you like a sugar cube? No. Are you sure? I put acid on it. Oh, well yes, I guess then. Cool. Things might get better for a little bit then. Or horribly worse. Ha. Awesome. They taste like an orgasm…

The Goldsmith's Anniversary

16491649 views11 comment00 favs

He searched for something deserving of the word “bestowed,” something so rare as to horrify the clerics of ordinariness.