Most read stories

Doing Time Outside (novel excerpt)

14521452 views55 comments44 favs

If you are a family member or friend of a person incarcerated in a correctional facility...

Pleasure (it was) after all...

14521452 views55 comments33 favs

I'm gonna write about this after...It'll either be a tale of pain or pleasure hopefully the latterI don't understand how this workswhy sometimes I want to hide from myself other times I can just give in, fully,and everything isohsoheightenedI want it to be beautifuland…

Parsing We

14511451 views22 comments11 fav

An excellent plan. Just like old times.

Accident Assurance

14511451 views44 comments33 favs

They found your athymic neck/clipped like a bag of Skittles/and your lifeblood left a Rorschach test on the dash/in which they saw the future/and their own exits/(straight ahead and to the right).

Die Zwischenwelt: The World as It Is and as It Is Not

14511451 views99 comments44 favs

These philosophic notions floated in my head for years and eventually helped inspire my pursuit of basic information in contemporary physics, astrophysics, astronomy, and cosmology when I was not reading or writing fiction or verse.

Chancing the Moonglow

14511451 views77 comments77 favs

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…

19.

14511451 views66 comments44 favs

They made posters and hung them everywhere. With the passing days she became the photograph at its center: hair always in the same ponytail; always with the same smile

The Centre of the Universe

14511451 views33 comments11 fav

"Look Emily, I’m charging your solar powered calculator and helping you relieve your dependence on foreign oil."

Paint-Can Harry Lets in Some Much Needed Air

14511451 views33 comments33 favs

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…

My Uncle's Last Day in Hospice

14511451 views77 comments88 favs

In and out of morphine dreams, he flies through the unfinished roof of Illinois sky. Below, matchbox-sized farm machines. A silo becomes his father's thermos, the silver-capped tower from which he stole sips at ten, his first secret. Back …

The Head

14511451 views1313 comments44 favs

So I've got this head in a jar and I'm not sure who it belongs to.

Beachcomber's dirge

14511451 views1010 comments99 favs

...clash of gulls wend upwards, disappearing into grey night's high tide recedes

Hollywood Sugar

14511451 views44 comments33 favs

No pain is private. How can it be?

Against the Wall

14511451 views99 comments44 favs

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

Cancer Always Calls Collect - Part 2 - Dear Santa

14511451 views33 comments11 fav

We all know that sometimes miracles happen and sometimes they don't. Some days are good and some days go by slowly as the fatigue sets in and he realizes that he is fighting cancer.

"We Are the Last Minority" Say Surrealist Poets

14511451 views22 comments00 favs

"My sister's parrot admires your armpit," X-Lautrec says. "Would you be so kind as to nail an avocado seed to a cup of black coffee?"

His Essay on the Meaning of Poetry

14511451 views66 comments44 favs

Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.

Arcana Magi Pure Vol.5 - c.3

14511451 views00 comments00 favs

It was unusual, a feeling of déjà vu waft in the air. However, this was completely new to them. Mayumi gripped her shoulders as Emi’s lips moved trying to ease her fear. Mayumi did not understand what this stuff was.

This Is How You Make The Bed

14511451 views88 comments77 favs

He disrobes; shoes, socks, shirt, belt, pants. He smells of hard work. The nude whisper of everything else.

Acapella

14511451 views99 comments99 favs

Its odors of quicklime/ and pyre-smoke will curl/ commingled in acrid air.

Sacre Something

14501450 views11 comment00 favs

My first abroad journey completed. A picturesque way to end it all, really. I’m into that, I think to myself: making things play like movies or dramas or as beautifully as I can make them.

The Fourth Prague Defenestration: 20

14501450 views22 comments11 fav

The Gropers of Prague were there, all around us, in spirit if not in fact. Was it KGB? Was it a ghost from my past? Or my own hand? Stop guessing. It was Einstein himself. The KGB had taken him into custody somehow, though by what authority? All the

Begonia {part six}

14501450 views00 comments00 favs

Mezereon’s giant dragon heart marveled at the girl’s revelations. First, he was heartsick for her and the sad state of things back where she had come to him from. Secondly, he was aghast to learn she was a princess; for even dragons know and respect r

Something Going Down, Like a Branch Snapped by Wind

14501450 views11 comment11 fav

This is 57% of middle America, I'm convinced: doomed.

The Family of Unsharpened Pencils

14501450 views55 comments55 favs

and pressed an area on my forehead between my eyes

Let Us Meet In The Afternoon

14501450 views55 comments00 favs

You are Day I am Night Let us Meet In the Afternoon And…

Sunday Morning Series- 7: Sunday Morning Trifurcation

14501450 views1515 comments88 favs

Go diddle in the sand// to save some other sinner/ a death of stones.

Style Shifts

14501450 views55 comments55 favs

Style Shifts “Oh, yes, my cousin. We were rude boys until the armed gangs started to gather. Used to be we could pass a night driving, playing our songs, acting tough. Yeah. We'd mouth off, flash some teeth, spark some anger when we felt like it. We…

Three Times, If I Count

14501450 views44 comments44 favs

Once or twice, it was only once or twice. Three times, if I really count. And I wasn't giving or loving. And my self stayed hidden and I kept most of my clothes on.

All These Poets

14501450 views77 comments66 favs

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,…