Most read stories

Quicksand

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At 25...

Geode

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There is a rock somewhere with the truth of the sky in it, the glitter of otherworldly charms that falsify the ugliness of the literal.

Everything You've Got

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I reach into my pocket for my keys and discover the cough drops Iput there a week ago have melted. Now my fingers are sticky. And I don’t have my keys.

Date Night

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Content may contain ordinary, everyday, and all around average happenings.

The Long Walk Home

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The last time Cyrus rode in a train’s passenger car, he came home a dead man.

Why I Cannot be your Facebook Friend

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The TV projects from an insect arm. It has the face of my ex-husband, smiling and void. I like to set small fires and inhale them.

1957: Kathleen Eulalie, Widow

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My lipline's retreated since Tuesday. I'll toss those Hazel Bishop reds, (lipstick on shriveled lips rattles men, scares little children) skip Woolworth's cosmetics counter, save backaching, ankleswelling pondering of powders, rouges, …

Paleo Prophet

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We are insatiable

What I Did For Pho

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Once upon a time there was a Vietnamese restaurant. And then there were two, and four, and eight...

The Ex Flies

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"My ex Maxine claimed red wine was the healthy alcohol choice. When we were married and I still had money she drank the expensive stuff, as if drinking Chateau Montrose 2005 instead of two buck chuck made her any less of a wino. She would have been better

PINHEAD

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He grew up needing an enemy, his class warfare instincts kindled by the death of his father in the labor dispute and bolstered by the readings of Steinbeck, Lawrence, Sinclair and others, and the college-bound students who were particularly bothered by Pi

A Babe in the Mirror and Another in the Woods

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“Would you look at that one!” my father said. “Who did she know?” my mother asked. “Who did she blow?” my father said loudly, and burst out laughing. I laughed too, although I didn't know why. My mother shot him one

Chocolate Diamonds

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with facets

Fanmail to Ellen Page

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You and I will never meet. You will never even know I existed. Even in dreams you will never imagine me. Someone told me once that your sleeping mind cannot conjure up new faces. It just spits out all the ones you’ve ever seen and that’s it. That’s it.

Miniature Golf

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Sadness as foreshadowing

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.

9/11

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He laughs and runs just like the other boys even though he doesn’t have a father now, just his mom.

What Happens In A Bed

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Eight days before her 50th birthday they were married in their soft new pajamas, holding hands on his bed in the hospital. The pastor and witnesses wore protective hospital gowns and gloves; the patient was in isolation once again. A special dispensation from the head…

Ah, The Drink

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My mother was Irish as Paddy's pig. So all her family. Lovely people they were. Also, seldom seen among the Folk; stone cold sober. My father's family; Bavarian German. Bavaria's the wrong side of the German tracks. Frankfort people laugh at Bavarians as people in…

Farm

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Still as the knife on the counter there still. Like mothballs in a chest. One with clear bags and newspaper clippings and your scarf inside it. The baby girl could put a mothball in her mouth and suck it like a penny. The way too close to a light bulb bur

from: The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars

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I got on the Greyhound Bus at 11 a.m. and sat by myself staring out the window. I could see the reflection of my own dark beard in the window, a 27 year-old man with a huge poem bursting my heart, gasping to get out into the bright lit-up world out there,

Let the Others Drool

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They are all sleeping, but I know better. I will keep watch and if he comes tonight I will be alert and ready. When he arrives he'll see the slack mouths, the graceless sprawls, hear the grunts, snorts and snores of the other women and then he'll sense me. My eyes will…

Arcana Magi Pure Vol.2 - c.2

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The sound built up, louder and louder causing birds and insects to fly into the air. Then it stopped.

The Hater

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You look at people and despise them all.

Assiduity Six

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"Every generation is a new generation, isn't it? What's so different about your generation?"

Learning to Love Your Permanent Stillness

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["GET UP, GET GET, GET DOWN ... 9-11'S A JOKE IN *your* TOWN!"]

bunk

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I bit her ear and / it was burnt toast

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.

Stomping the Big Ozarka Bottle Flat

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I dream of benzene rings/ and polymer shrouds

Playtime

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Her head was free from restraint...