Most read stories

Professional Pizza Patter

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We all stared, somewhat shocked and mostly disgusted.

Bag

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No chance for Hallo, we sank into an unlit station doorway and he fumbled through my shorts.

Just Stopped In For A Raspberry Slushie

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Certain disorders lend themselves to poetics.

Paint-Can Harry Lets in Some Much Needed Air

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Welcome the one and the all of you, welcome all you scraggly long haired weeds, welcome the no longer rolling stones of the new you, welcome you most beautiful little wonderfully…

Arcana Magi Pure Vol.6 - c.3

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The streets were filled with animals of the forest. All in a panic trying to find a direction. Mixed among them were members of various Clans that lived in the forest.

Afternoon Chores

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She is trying to quit—nasty habit this smoking. Still, this is the only time she lets herself smoke these days: Laundry day.

Feeling fences

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... he could feel the pointed picket spears.

Perdition

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Colton nods, without words, understanding the significance of every word that the Old Man has uttered, knowing that in the end, given enough time, we all go down that lonely corner, to embrace the darkness, wishing to be cured of our sentiments.

Regarding Hank

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Won't speak a word against 'em. Car trunk stunk like bad chicken long after, but I won't speak a word against 'em.

His Essay on the Meaning of Poetry

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Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.

White Room

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

Across US Sullen Teens Dump Family for Olive Garden

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"That zit on your forehead just won't go away, will it, sweetie?" she adds as she brushes her daughter's bangs downward.

Brussegem, a snug hell (novel excerpt)

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Long ago, this painter Brussegem had hung the dark mantle of Outcast Artist” over his shoulders—and over his life, he formed a strict philosophy—Art and Only Art—and protected his solitude and artistry with all his moody might,....

Lord of the Poets

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I almost caught a poet today.

All These Poets

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All these poets with their wrinkled hands full of freshly poured over poems are driving me into the dried wheat fields like a black block of crows. Offering a collectable cigarette, they light the damned thing with another hand-rolled poem,…

Story by Committee

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The past has no flavor.

formation of a black hole

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who can quite say/when careless talk & confidence/slips into that other charged thing/so minimal at first

Neil Gaiman

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“Tell me a story,” he said, toying with his top hat, running his fingers along its brim.

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.5 - c.4

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Sora and Ciel stood before Dean Morden inside his office. It felt weird to the girls looking at him sitting behind Madam Mayweather’s desk

The Raging River

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We'll all face the raging river, some sooner than others.

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…

Mort

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Mort’s hand-mind suffered electrifying-absence-emptiness; no wife.

Jenny Whistled Through The Mail Slot

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

The Family of Unsharpened Pencils

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and pressed an area on my forehead between my eyes

Chancing the Moonglow

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It's become sort of a habit now when Elsie's husband is away on business two or three times a month that we take the afternoon off and drive nine miles across the river to Marginalia, Arkansas and the Moonglow Motel with its red, neon vacancy sign and although to some, two…

Forty Two

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The gate squeaked, the gravel shuffled and the letterbox clattered as February 14th's mail cascaded to the ground.

We Cannot Cross the River

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We cannot cross the river until it freezes. Bekker predicts January. For food we gather leaves, berries and roots from the thick forest behind the cabin. Suarez boils what we find into a revolting paste that we spoon into our mouths with dirty fingers.

A THOUSAND PARROTS

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  The parrots woke Eddie up. That and Rocker snoring in the twin bed. A thousand parrots flying over the motel? They squawked, God how they…

Walking On Air

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Nik Wallenda was going to walk a wire stretched from Sarasota Bay across US 41 to a condo on Gulf Stream Drive.