Most read stories

Examination of Faith (And the Big Bang)

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The marble, it's just there. I can't explain how it got there (or when), all I know is that everything is in that marble. By "everything," I mean every thing. Your breakfast? It's there.

Not Another Day In The Machine.

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I A sparklerman zig-zagged across the skies, re-arranging stars in its path. How bright his stick-like and jaggy limbs twinkle, I noticed; even noticing my surprise. No longer 'simply sitting', I was. 'It is time' I mumbled. The room was melting, si

The Bowery Scene (Memoir, 1981; edited by Charlotte Curtis)

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It is easy to look out on the Bowery and say, "There are the bums." Encountering one, however, even one who asks to "bum a quarter" or tells you he's "on the bum" the word "bum" slips away in one's mind...

The Big LARP

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The ambient sound wheezes on.

Wonderland

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The bartender kept looking at himself in the mirror behind the bar. “Everyone in Hollywood is an actor,” Doc said.

Ben Clarone: Prologue Part 2

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This was not the bar that the artist usually frequented.

Mr. Sunrise

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To a tech-savvy millennial, the definition of progress is a hands-free blowjob, and the real number is not how many men you’ve been with but how many minutes you’ve made them wait.

A Paltry Thing

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I love Hooters. Best cheese steak in town in my opinion.

Perilous Joy

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...bush tail beside him his closest comfort next to the genes...

Packing

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I left Iowa in august when the air was thick and sticky. I had been there three years minus a few days when the boy I'd been sleeping with packed almost everything I owned into my car and waved goodbye. In Baltimore I had few friends and a job teaching English at a…

To Whom It May Concern:

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Now, we can argue about how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, but there is no doubt that it takes eight spritzes of Scrubbing Bubbles bathroom cleaner, three spritzes of Lime-Away, and then a 30 second spray of Oust to incapacitat

In Search of Vince’s Quinces

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Beautiful, he thinks, as he taps the ash of his cigarette over the balcony, but this is not good enough.

Mankind vs. The Undertaker

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Her boyfriend is into U.S. presidents and professional wrestling. He is reading biographies of both occupations and says this helps him to appreciate gray area, decisive action. Lives of great men, he explains.

I Am Quantum

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He had a lean build, except, remarkably, his midsection was perfectly barrel-like. As if he kept an alien lifeform in his belly, cultivated by years of Pabst and Yuengling transfusions.

children

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today on the bus/ a man in his fifties/ smiled at a baby/

Loveless Lover

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Love me like a crutch Love me when I'm strong

Desert Storm, an Infrared Dream/David Avidan

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Desert Storm, an Infrared Dream/Poem by the late David Avidan On January 17, 1991 I woke up at 02:45 from a neo-surreal dream with a slight not very serious feeling of suffocation a pre-asthma attack instantly stifled with the inhalation of Ventolin an

Marks in the Sand (Poetry-Rhythm)

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I am only ever What you seem to be Without the leverage Of sweet reality

Veined and Green

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Where we’ve penned heart shaped question marks, seeds sprouting bowed heads, a congregation of confused supplicants.

The Tourists

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He thought of his field trip from the previous year, of Prague’s museums, statues, squares, architecture, restaurants, and various modes of transport. The town offered none of these and surely no cinema, no crowds of people, not even an old church.

Prologue - On the Lips of Children

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Their tongues were dry, her milk was gone, and the last bit of water in the plastic jug had evaporated.

Urgencies

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...it was moving toward me from an oblique angle somewhere behind, steadily, relentlessly.

A Poem for Chris Toll

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we all die from the bottom up

The Sapaat Swarm

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About three dozen people, the doctor told him, dwelt in the small village until there had been a dry spell—a drought the likes of which no one in the region had ever seen before. Theories abounded as to the cause of the drought as theories do: a curse by

Light

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"You gonna be old before you're old," my father had told her.

Four Poems

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Our disappearance would register/ as the movement of a sand grain/ on a windy beach full of sand.

Here Comes The Pope!

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In the words of that great philosopher Hunter S. Thompson, "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."

Transgressions

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Once you descend, the third rail/ hums its invitation

The perfectly banal postcards...

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“There are so few uses for Crisco, that to keep it in the house seems an unnecessary temptation,” said my health teacher.

Tatters

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inside i know my heart rattles cause outside i'm only seeing that the truth is in tatters