Most read stories

Privileged

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I could hide away in this tower But I am Rapunzel And I will let down my hair

Today the Smell of Worms and Wet Pennies

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Martin Heidegger wore hearing protection out on the tarmac at JFK. The runways were broad and he danced and leapt with the freedom of a Cats performer while he guided planes to the terminal.

Sarah the Witch

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Secretly she suspected she was really a witch. She didn't have green skin or scraggly black hair, and certainly no flying monkeys. Maybe those came over time, the more bad things you did, the more ugly you became until all the world could see how horrible

The Vote

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God had decided to resign. Not even two weeks notice. He just resigned. Point blank.

Blemish in the Blood

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Warning: some of this is true, some of this is not.

A Night in Saudi Arabia

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I walk through nameless streets, narrow and winding, past shops selling scarves, spices, skins.

The seduction

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1. HeWomen's heads turned when Remy stopped in the doorway — as they always did. He noticed — as he always did — but paid no attention as he scanned the room. Too nervy to care. No sign of Fiona. Good. It paid to be the one doing the…

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.5 - c.2

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Azure was overwhelmed by white everywhere. Her eyes lost focus when she looked at the colors of Miri’s outfit, even her clothes.

Introduction and Apology Written Against the End of Time

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They articulate my failings as a human being./ They articulate my greater rage at human beings// here for such a short time and at the precipice already

Reckonings

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Even in the fading light, it looked big enough to disembowel a man.

Winter in Waveland

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They build them high they do in Waveland, Mississippi.The tall houses with their skinny thighs spread wide flirting with the dusky coast, like antebellum ladies petticoats lifted, stockings wetted, ankles bared, savingtheir hems from the unpredictable tide,…

Scratching into January, 2017

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Follow the money. It seeks/ the lowest of the low and finds them here/ in an embarrassing abundance.

Hungry

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Why do people kill themselves with food? It’s obvious, I suppose. They’re hungry.

DNA

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my family's Scottish heritage

I'm Dreaming of a Nihilistic Christmas

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The mind sparkles with Shakespeare. It's like hearing the rain fall. The world becomes silent and dark and the rain becomes snow and falls like snow and rests on the ground like snow and informs the mind with the values of heaven. A distant oboe pins its sympathies…

Rentals

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You master their secrets. Mirror adjusters... Air conditioning knobs... Fuel door releases... Changing their satellites to Mojo Nixon. But you never really know them.

Guinness for Iron

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My sister / craves raisons

Assiduity Nine

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Don and I return to Rasheed's room on the top floor of the middle house where Uzma sits waiting to speak her piece. I'm feeling blessed listening to their enthusiastic chatter. It's like the world is opening up to me again, allowing me to experience a rush of…

Did you ever kill someone?

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Well, yeah but no one that wasn't pointing a gun at me, mostly. I shot at a lot of people but there were only three times when I can honestly say I know that I blew someone away.

Our Own

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The world is upon us. The only thing that matters Now is if you are willing to be seen by them. Many moths Will be hidden by simply gathering on the bark Of the one tree, but this will not sustain you if you Do not also have the courage…

The Echoes of Infinity

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Marilyn turned the kayak away from the target ship, barely visible after all these years, toward the shallow waters by the shore. She recalled her father holding her hand at low tide, as she looked up at him and he told her…

About Poems

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They often leave me dulled/ and wanting back my time.

Darcy Eastland

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To him the younger women, contemporaries of the bride, all sounded as if they were breathing helium.

Sweet Sorrow

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He sat at the bar and waited for her. He looked at the noon drinkers with indifferent eyes.

Skinny in her Black Dress

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black hair/ (damp) around her ears Keys on the table Drinking coffee from a glass

Kingfish

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Time stole you from underneath the goldendock. Writhing there, slick as a flapping tongue;lips gored, red, whose gaping could embolden weak hands behind the blazing buck blade, long ago pierced in your summer quietus, beneath the soft shade of a tackle box, as the…

Asking an Accomplished Poet Friend to Read My Poetry in a Starbucks at 2PM on a Thursday

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Your usage of the English language / is awkward and passé—

bric a brac road

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bric a brac road

The Interview

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What follows is an interview George Bush gave to Barbara Walters in 2006. He came off like something out of a swamp. Dick Cheney made them deep-six the tapes and we never saw it on prime time. I got the transcript, however,…

Shooting Smoke

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In our first conversation, she tells me love is a dragon: she has come across it’s destruction, hears of it’s size, mythology, of it’s immorality. I sip my hot cocoa (God, I pray she thinks it is coffee)...