Most read stories

Koch Brothers

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When Chuck dies, I’ll throw/ a party and dance, a little drunk,/ across what I’ll pretend/ is the old shit’s grave.

Kim Chow Click Click

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Ok American dogs. Here my first story I wrote when I only two days old! Then evil moderator delete me and story go away. Now I three days old. I try to remember.

Dancing With the Monster

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It comes to me at night, the monster. I don't even realize it's in the room until I hear it breathing behind me. It reaches out its hands and places them on my shoulders. Its fingers are furry and soft, but strong. They grasp the muscles on either side of my neck, and I…

Cassie Fly

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...the relatives didn't seem nearly as fucked up as she thought they would be considering...

The Element of Ritual

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Nurse Smithers straightened Dr. Baumgartner’s feathered head dress. it had slipped down below the caduceus so carefully painted on his forehead by the medical ritual staff.

Napomo 17: April 19 – 24

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There are no inspirations./ There are only the things I like/ and the much more numerous// things I do not like.

To a Young Atheist & Intellectual with Dior Glasses

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You have such a complicated mind / for refusing to believe in God / just like any damned liberal / whose fingerprints / crowd the faces of a thousand / dollar bills / being passed around your great nation...

Mean Time

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between

Ritual

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The dance draws deeper whirling witches weaving rhymes The fire spits fierce in the falling rain soon the spell will spill from secret times

Napomo 17: April 25 - 30

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As air warms and warm/ winds stir, green becomes the force/ that surges the plains.

Dumb Luck and the Fall of Empires

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At some point we all reach the end point/ of something. Something important/ if only to our fragile self esteem.

Archaeology

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I would like to go back (with spade, pick, soft bristles), and sift through time and layers, brush away the intervening years, and find: the tooth, knocked out by my then best friend, when we were seven, careening downhill in my father's wheelbarrow on Boscobel…

What I told the police the morning after

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Miracles don’t happen to the poor.

Pop Tarts

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The currents of events/ strip the molecules from cartilage,// reverse polarity of ventricles—

Carrying you

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I woke up to the humming of an empty space in the shape of a sweatshirt,

Eskimos Happened to Come Wandering By

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Meet Carl. He's six-three, two hundred and thirty pounds. He has light-brown hair,…

Spoke

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Laurel's new bike is powder blue, with silver tassels on the handle bars. Jenny's mouth actually waters at the sight of it, as though it were a fresh loaf of bread or a perfect, juicy orange. “You can ride it if you want,” Laurel…

Showtime

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Showtime on Broadway.

Dangerous Questions

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Shirley stubbed her cigarillo out on a dead chunk of honeycomb.

Birds of a Feather

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Contention over market share/ is bred in them and we are cousins

Family Friend

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My student assistant was a comely young woman. A freckle faced blonde. She was from Ohio.

The Cracks Between My Keyboard Keys

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In exactly 100 words, I review the cracks between my keyboard keys.

Cat Woman Sexy #5

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Cultivate your vaginal tears at the gates of Thigh and Holy.

A New Chapter to Song of Solomon: A Poem

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My beloved lets me crawl into bed and put my feet on him since his skin is warm and hot like a fire roaring from within his soft flesh.

Tongues

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I feel his hand on my face, feel it brush past my lips, and I taste my sister's blood.

Drinking

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After you started drinking your meals and hating politics I wanted to climb inside, live in your stomach and dissolve. I wanted to make you see, hold you captive with arms stretched, pinned. listen again, swallow…

Esmeralda

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Being an uncredited bonus composition, written in the sublimest access of divine afflatus this poet believes his lyric verse has ever known. “In olden times, dark was not counted fair”: Those were the words, I think, of some old poet. …

Dreams Should Come with Buttered Popcorn

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the brain plays impish tricks/ and entertains itself with avant garde/ home movies

Beachcomber's dirge

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

The Lycanthrope Fun-Time Activity Book

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an elongating boy with butter-yellow flecks in his eyes, and skin patched like a tabby.