Most read stories

Against the Wall

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happily fling Molotov cocktails// against ICE agents in armored vehicles/ and sing the pain of their burning deaths/ as triumph against asininity.

Otillie

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Shhh. I am here. Otillie Augustine, from Trieste, an Italian city to you, but when I lived it was part of Austria. Such things as who flies their flags over a city? Not so important after all, after all the losses and the victory speeches. These were not…

When The Sun Goes Down

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Though his heart aches his melody seems to flow It creeps into the dreams of all in slumber in the valley below

White Room

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A white room is empty but for you, a card table and a chair.

The Perfumed Kitten

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We named her Big Cat—I don’t know why. Maybe because she was already grown when we got her, unlike the kittens we’d seen in the pet store window that Dad wouldn’t let us have.

Questions of Ownership

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Who owns the moon? What title search/ could ever make a claim?

Professional Pizza Patter

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We all stared, somewhat shocked and mostly disgusted.

Those Brain Motility Blues

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Philosophy: a muscular exercise of throat, jaw, tongue, and brain.

James Dean

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The woman lit a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. She took a long drag, tilted her head back, paused. Her eyes flicked to the NO…

on the shore on the shore

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I await, here at Sandymount Strand / There's a stony bed and moistened sand / Couples dance away into futurity / With their dogs upon the shore

Five Evangelists

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Five evangelists in bathing suits baptize a man while green chilies roast on a Ferris wheel rotisserie

Luminous Nights, 5

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It turned out that my brother's newly acquired building in downtown Pasadena, was what developers called a "see-through" building. That meant you could look from one side of the building all the way through to the other side, without obstruction. In oth

Laughing at Ants

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It IS good, right?

Edge of Wolf

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edge of wolf howls and howls past sunflowers and skeletons

Solid

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Explanation within

Haiku Life

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A funny thing this life

Ten Books That Have Stuck with Me Off the Top of My Head as I Make Them Up, #2

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#2 The Typewriter Inside You by Harmon Gentle—I found this one at a garage sale when I was 15. Intended as a manual for sharpening one's typing skills, by the third chapter it became obvious that Mr. Gentle's sanity had slipped, and that rather than mastering the…

Balm (excerpt)

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my second language / to silence / plainsong of / the breast

Things As They Really Are

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I slide my CD toward Eric Burdon who sits, smiling and gracious and fatigued from Seattle traffic, at the table at Silver Platters, where I have just purchased ‘Til Your River Runs Dry, and stood in a line of old gray heads to have him sign it. I remove my hat and…

Fine, she said

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A rope is cleaner, he explains with a straight face. He's calmed by the visual.

The Lobbyist

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I looked down at Earth and imagined this porn star who’d asked for my help.

Jenny Whistled Through The Mail Slot

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We all thought, Birds! We all thought, Nests inside the chimney!

Lord of the Poets

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I almost caught a poet today.

Story by Committee

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The past has no flavor.

Unspoken

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I'm waiting for your voice. My trembling hand is so damp the phone could slip from my fragile grasp at any moment. Each ring burns in my ear and makes the washing machine in my stomach tumble faster and faster. After three rings, or it could be four, or forty, I hear…

Let's Walk This Dog

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if you don't quiver with anticipation you'll barely manage to explode

Arcana Magi Zero + Pure - c.7

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Keiko covered her arm while holding the staff. She looked up and saw morning breaking through the sky, but something was unusual about it.

Winter Paints Nelson County

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It was more than just taste/ more than a point of view/ and oil and pigment/ that painted a store front church/ a box with a cross in a vacant lot/ that welcomed desperation, faith/ and imagination.

~with every breath~

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she goes jogging with the feet of an angel the sound of crunching leaves like wrapping paper torn open to reveal an expensive doll and the light in her mother's eyes.

Feeling fences

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... he could feel the pointed picket spears.