Most read stories

White girl/boy angst

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I’m secretly hoping for a huge bouquet, a fruit basket, a pickle jar of urine in a lunch bag on my doorstep, even.

This is Not the Great Depression!

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Going to the candy store at night in the section of town called Kalliope. Riding bike, trying to get there before it closed at ten. Getting candy at that little store with the glass containers and the rows and rows of candy. Getting milk there…

The Baptism of David Swimmer

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The church pews were straining at the crowds who had come to see David get saved. There was no salvation in the water really, but the Baptists preached the gospel of immersion. There was a certain Baptist church in Kentucky that pressured a man who'd been sprinkled to get…

Anna Lee

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He first saw her stepping off a water taxi by the Long Docks in the rain at night, her right arm atrophied from some early childhood disease, dangling like an apology, her other holding a cigarette. Her wet black hair hung past her shoulders and her eyes

Things I Learned But No Longer Believe

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Shakespeare had red hair / Van Gogh never painted a nude

Bloodsport

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At last one of the men on the line bowed his head in a silent prayer for deliverance from what was about to come, then lifted his head and shouted loudly for his fellows to charge.

Fancy That

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Little mercy, ten fingers, ten toes.

Circus-thrust the Night Copier (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.6)

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Her fever spreads through lines of a plaid mini, over burnt milk, darkened to yellow. Fingers explore fabric folds up and into the lost dimensions of logic.

I Am the Poetic Kiss of Death

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My poems have appeared in four different publications; three have died shortly after they ran my stuff. Coincidence, or something more sinister?

When To Wear Mascara

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it's time for the cold, antiseptic cloth to briskly remove the evidence.

Weight

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We flew./ In my dreams, I can fly.

Serving

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patience is....

And the Canon Rap Got Played

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Back in the sixties, I chanced upon a list of books. That’s right. Sifting a black garbage bin, I found the long lost canon. Seizing the moment, I snatched the list, and cradled it in my palms. I felt proud and patriotic for saving such a noble list f

I Wake Up Teetering

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I wake up on the edge of the mattress, teetering. The dog is looking at me funny.

Cleavage

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"Dennis," she started "exactly what the fuck are you looking at?" "Your tits" I replied.

The Work of Constant Rising

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The poet said, ‘I feel the fell of dark, not day.” but day it always is. Bright! Bright! the city claims its blue salutes; its stopping in mid-sentence at a name where fingers roam a stone.

Ring, Ring, Ring

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If this is trouble, please call someone else.

Bye-bye Love

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Barbie wore only her clear pink heels...

Daily Bread

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A little poem about prison

Tiger-eyed

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The tiger-eye beads around her neck would wink at me like a nervous uncle sharing a secret with a child. They roll on her sternum like marbles. At night, on her nightstand, they whisper my secret to the patchouli-scented room. How long have they known?

I fall out of love, learn not to worry, and get ready to embrace the foreign war...

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Love hurts... Really.

Out the Window

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she lifted and threw her legs out the open side front window of the speeding auto

The Jade Rabbit, Chapter One

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Even when the sun is gone and things get dark, usually the moon comes to reflect some light of hope until a new dawn can emerge

Burning Trash

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Boys start fires all the time— it's a rite of passage— so when your father gives you the task of setting fire to the family's trash, you don't mind, and when the flames ignite inside the old dishwasher he heaved into the woods behind the house, you…

Static

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The days cut off by damp chill with every thought a different variety of protection.

Achieving Inner Peace without facebook

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There was an empty box on his facebook page asking to be filled in with, “What’s on your mind?” He thought. "Hair?"

The Diaphragm

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They had a deal, she reminded him. If he didn’t want to wear a condom all the time, he’d have to help with her birth control.

The Next Landscape

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The day came shyly up to me like a rolling orange thing. Perhaps of alien origin, but not if the Buddha of our foolish hopeless dreamer inside has anything to say about it. It said, pick me up. I did. It looked like forever on the inviting horizon with trees as…

RINSE AND OXIDATION

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...listening to the ache of errs our mouths had become.

An Unheeded Return

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On an over­cast and humid day in August, Jesus—with Dad’s per­mis­sion, of course—decided to make his grand return.