Most read stories

At the Crossroads Bar

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An eye patch waits aslant his passenger seat.

They didn’t read Pitchfork or Stereogum or Gorilla vs. Bear or Hipster Runoff

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They didn’t read Pitchfork or Stereogum or Gorilla vs. Bear or Hipster Runoff, only glanced at them, not enough blaise in reading, but skimming kept your credibility, thank god those sites now posted more and more videos. They didn’t subscribe to VICE

Doesn't mean I love you

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I’m practically naked; coral sundress, very damp panties, black with lace insets. I know I still smell like pussy.

I Hear You & Other Stories

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All the attractive women in the building had secrets. He wanted to know their secrets, but they wouldn't say.

Dear Andreas,

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Dear Andreas,My mom is asking me to come home.They found you amongst the ferries, down the street from the pile of unearthed bedrock I lived on as a child. It took two months before you showed up again. You left everyone scared, running to the bridges, but there was no one.…

A Theology of Anorexia

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She always told them that she had eaten earlier, that she had had a big lunch, that she wasn't hungry. "Leave me alone," she cried, running from the table to her room. This anger would burst out of her, so sudden and so total in its transformation--from t

All the gaping mouths without a voice

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"Mammy, why do they throw sand in our eyes?" a girl could be heard screaming from the 30-foot-deep ravine, Babi Yar.

The Song of the Jardin Venus

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The place is a living rebirth, And all death is only temporary. For soon in the land, the soil, For soon in

Two Dimensional Beings

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Now, both the feline and the infant have abstractly different levels of cognitive function. But, they both share one thing in common. Neither of them have trained eyes. Sometimes, both the cat and the baby will track the same invisible object across the r

The Green-Eyed Shwemyethna

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Moon-girl spins around & around drunk on her outrageous momentum as if she could make the world rotate on its own fables.

Sharp Was the Blade: chapter from Ari Figue's Cat

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You do not open the wound all at once. You do not slice or cut or slash. You stroke, as a lover's finger strokes the skin of her beloved. You slide the blade lightly over the surface. You do not think, I am hurting myself. You do not think, pain. You slid

The Day The Music Died

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I heard an old Stevie Ray Vaughn tune this morning. It triggered a flash back. It’s funny how just a few notes of a song can slam me right into a memory. A total and complete immersion. Sights. Sounds. Smells. The people. The place. The weather. Wha

I'm Writing

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More and more, incoherent masses of letters scroll through my mind. Ideas struggle to form. Flashes of images flit rapidly in front of my mind’s eye. There are fish, mountains, presents, forests, mirrors - a menagerie of meaningless symbols march pas

Car

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My father brought home a turquoise Porsche with red leather upholstery. My sister and I were small, eight and six, and fit tightly in the jumpseats behind my parents.We went for a ride, tooled around Rome, circled the Colosseum, showing off for the people looking. My father…

7

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7 My son has toxic epidermal necrolysis and the nurses who come in from the burn unit, 7 of them, the number 7 don’t you see the number 7 has meaning for numbers have meaning for everything has meaning and I sat in that sacred space in the ICU whe

Losing (Valentine's Day Massacre Poem)

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Paid and laid, they leave.

Adults at Home

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The afternoon my little sister won her first U.S. Open, I was also busy, having strenuous sex with David Solemn, a man I’d met earlier that morning at Dunkin Donuts. We did it on the white living room carpet in my parent’s new Connecticut house while

Paper Elephants

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Every year people came from as far away as Des Moines and Halifax for Elephant Day. They came to see the elephants.

A Quite Literary Catfight

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Cavett asked McCarthy what she thought was overrated about Hellman. McCarthy–never known to mince words–replied “Every word she writes is a lie, including ‘and’ and ‘the.'"

Slipstream

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Moments before they had been holding hands, but when they turned the corner and she told him she did not want to go down the dark path he had turned also, into someone she did not recognize and could not understand.

My Rat

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Today I'll make the call

The Look

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He looks in silence and he looks with longing.

The Blue Bird

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The blue bird tapped at my window and pecked my crumbs. I talked to him as to a small person about the things of life, of flowers, of trees and the sky. Even at times pretending he was erudite, I questioned him about evolution and extinction. He looked at me as if he…

Drinking Calamine

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Scratching must be like what crack is.

3 Unforgotten Remembrances

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A useful skill. Tonic immobility. I cannot forget...the first year I was a woman...trying to believe the truth I tell...

A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte

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A woman is fishing in the Seine at the far left of the painting, while time is suspended and light remains. One man plays a trumpet. A half dozen people sit or walk under parasols. Couples stroll and children run or sit or stand beside their par

If I Kiss That Girl

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Because she is waiting, seated on my hotel bed, making comments about my sonic white toothbrush being a vibrator, telling me she's bi, gorgeous with her poly-amorous discussion and long brown curling hair, with her fawn-like face and delicate breasts, wit

Me and Sid and Tom and John Yount

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True story

Agencypiece

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The gun sits quietly in the woman's handbag.

A Glimpse

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I am everything she wanted me to be. I am crossed legs, chest out; I am wearing a soft white dress—lacy and completely inappropriate to the Midwest, to 2011, to anything about my existence.