Most read stories

Bones

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Got something inside me hard as nails keeps me walking upright ain't never failed

Cleaverly Done!

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‘what’s the hassle kiddo, chopping meat is fun, come here and listen to the music of the chop, the sound of steel ripping through air, slicing through flesh and hitting wood, poetry I say’.

Serve & Protect

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If she was still breathing, Tom promised himself he would let her live, but right then his shoulder ached and his right hand was throbbing.

The Song of Jerome

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"My love is with eggs!"

Troy

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It’s layer VII we adore/ and mourn

ANALOG

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We’re going to talk about our future like the Rick Dees Weekly Top 40. Like there are 40 great songs this week about our future.

Barrier Island

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At the beach house

Arcana Magi Pure Vol.4 - c.1

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Mayumi noticed everything moving in real time. Everyone just stared and a woman approached her to see if she was okay. Once Mayumi felt the woman’s hand touch her shoulder, her skin crawled and she ran.

The Monday Wednesday Friday War

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Ginny, the mother, was a lark in every respect of the word. Born and raised in central California farm country, to a family of lower middle class means, educated in public schools in whose bathroom stalls she was deflowered as unceremoniously as a pig ta

Friends

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I reach out and grab a can of soup with each hand and spin them around to dive into this much-heralded sodium situation. It's a landslide. I almost smile as I put low sodium back and continue to hold tightly onto regular.

This love.

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- Never in pain and distance - Frown on these moments, With bitterness and vain

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.

Hometown News: Newsprint Jesus (part 2)

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If Don’s story was one of faith carrying someone through his trials, the story of Randy Slafter is another. It was faith that brought him and his family to Johnstown 15 years ago. The wings of faith protected him from the dark angels of grief and tragedy

Escaped Poems

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Sometimes my poems escape. They crawl out through my Wi-Fi connection, I suspect.

fealty

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just before my break,/ he came on the line,/ old and slow with computers now/ but wanting a discount/ he'd been told he qualified for.

I Haven't Slept Properly

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The rain is filling up my shoes, I can’t see through my glasses, Rain all inside me.

Everything that's Gone Wrong, has Gone Wrong Because of Football

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I’m not ready for football. I’m not ready for it, but I live in a southern town that worships at its altar more devoutly than those suicidal beauties in James Wright’s great poem.

Assiduity Twenty

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I experience a presence when walking through the forest . . .

Another Way

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If there was another way to describe emptiness, I'd word the endlessness of the sky, of the ocean at low tide.

Decision Mountain

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For decades the land the village sat on had switched its allegiance between two countries.

Spaghettiad

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In the mode of Swinburne's ‘Dolores':For the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster- A study of the notion of “Intelligent Design” Since the universe came into dawning, If e'er this bright universe did, Men ought to know better in…

###moth#7###

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what was she like you ask? smarter than me for instance she could type alot faster. and she didn’t worry constantly about being poor or having a family looking over her shoulder. maybe that’s what she did with boys. 17 years later and she is in my bed

A Year and a Day Then

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Removing the deeply embedded jack-blade frommy naked side, like any slicked-upsplinter, was just a bit jarring on the first bite, on first try, I must admit. I freelydo so now to your frozen-over faces. You made your…

For J.S. Bach’s Three-hundred-twenty-eighth Birthday

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To listen is to feel embodied reason// sing and dance with consummate grace

If Blake had only known

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Everything is bound to change like / a damsel to the tracks.

The Judge's Wife Part 6

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—Strip down to your shorts. Put on this gown, open to the rear.

Carnival Beach

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Galloping people, tangled in ballets of hot love, weaving in and out, making a canvas of it.

Gentleman Freddy

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Roanne, just out of jail, went to cop. That is, she went to beg fat little Freddy the dopeman to front her once more. She'd have to fuck Freddy, of course, but, well, maybe he'd wait until after this time. Likely not…

Seasonal Affective Disorder

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A man of action would take to his rake/ but Sloth would rather watch and wait/ for snow to erase each leaf on leaf.

Sick Day

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Marcy was not herself today, her mother said when the school called. She was under the weather and she could not play with the other children. Marcy's mother began to suspect that her daughter was not herself very early on that day. Walking up the stairs Dolores…