Most read stories

Note to Vera Wang

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Vera Wang I saw you on Oprah today girl. Oh no no no.

Express

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Once, asked what time it was, M. replied, "Eternity."

Jack-in-the-Box U-Haul

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“When I was six years old, Dad came home from Vietnam and picked me and Mama up from her sister's house in Boston. We packed a U-Haul with everything we owned from T.V. to toothbrush. Dad hitched the trailer to the Rambler and drove us South, back home to Carolina. A…

Neapolitan

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I wonder how many crumbs he can drop to make a cookie, whole, so I can relax a little and throw out the self help books about how I'm not right in the motherfucking head,

Tiger Milk (Part 2)

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"...easier to get milk from a male tiger than mercy from him."

The Grinder

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"For several days thinking they had found a dead man’s boot beside the highway..."

where horses stood ground

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Where horses once were tethered grows their grass . . .

Mastery of All Thangs Including Sonatas and Piledrivers

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My old buddy Snoop Dogg saunters into the room, and we go through a handshake routine that takes over ten minutes, ending with double-backflips and some brotherly penis swordplay.

The Outlaws

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"So, what do you do for fun around here? I mean, other than each other?" Carlo's smirk broke into full-fledged laughter; Yuri feigned shock. Iris leaned forward and breathed into Bronte's ear: "We misbehave."

Picture Window

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You call your wife. “Do you see what I see?” you ask.

The Nature of Things

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She’s not coming today. She didn’t come yesterday either.

A Girl and Her Trees

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The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle. Fall was near, a rotten apple.

My Smelly Valentine

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He asked me if I was going to buy Valentine's for the office this year, and I shook my head. We were in the dollar store, February 13, and I could get a box of twenty kids' Valentines with last year's favourite cartoon…

Beneath the Light of an Exploding City

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Under the darkness of their new city. The heave and moan of structures as they breathed and pulsed. Under the darkness of this city, under the hum of their florescent bulbs and the tumbling rattle of motorcars, the wheeze of their machines and the clank o

flash poem

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Why flash?because the moments, the moments, they pass in flashes of brilliancethat shudder, death glow alightand nothing makes sense beyond nowand nothing will help me but meand I am not even enoughnot my thoughts or your nod of assentor even the deep sigh of…

Strawberries

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The strawberries remind me of you,Fat and fleshy,Pimple-dimpled.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Not Creative

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a poem about things exploding/burning down/scattering for miles.

Little, Big Dipper

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I considered kissing Christian. It wouldn’t be terrible. I mean, it might be terrible, but it wouldn’t be awful. His teeth were a little crooked but he didn’t smell or anything.

Sleep Music, No. 1

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Now they are sleeping in a poppy field, sun-drenched warm afternoon girls lying on their stomachs and sides, faces in flowers, and flowers blowing, blowing. If this afternoon were every afternoon, the world would be cured.

"Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown..."

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A Parody of Keats I stood at silent thought upon a clump Of nettles, swaying in the od'rous air- That blew from my own trousers, by the dump; That it had not blown more lent me despair. The dulcet horn gave melody, rare…

M Tractor

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If I saw a little old man out there, a fellow with a hunched up back, I shouldn't be afraid.

The Retreat

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This time, he didn’t admire the fish for very long. He was close to shore and tossed it up on the rocks. Before the fish could flop its way back to the water, Quentin lobbed a broad stone at its head.

Too Late

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He brought me kisses from New York.

Poem to My New Lover, All for Free

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Come, bring your sadness to the precipice of my body, bury it within me like a tool

Smoke and Stars

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as distant lights all must shiver before joining in a Milky Way river

Pretty New Landscape

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It's important to make a sure sound. It's not impossible you know. It's just funny I suppose, like being in a dream of another dream. All these things could be mashed and tumbled together to make us one big clay hero, someone…

Peter's Office

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This is Peter’s office. The room is small, and the wood paneling is painted white. Light colors, Peter has been told, make a room appear larger.

Reversal

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For reasons he couldn't fathom, his motorcycle only moved in reverse. He engaged the engine and lurched backward hard. He called a friend, a gear-head with perpetually dirty nails, asked him to look it over.

Foundations

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King's splendid stronghold Pressing down the earth below Broken by the grass

The True Price of Bed and a Bath

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So it's me and two other girls...