Most read stories

Things of Beauty

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The cover features Lincoln as a woman. Lincoln as a woman is not a thing of beauty.

Geisha Doll

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I imagined cool, wet clay oozing between my fingers when I'd squeeze a tight fistful.

The Virtues of the Patient Lizard

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He will feast and die beneath the glaring gaze of the western sky, waiting patiently for what will come next

Gonadista Blogsdashiva

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"Shouldn’t I be able to easily get my arms around nothing?”

Suicidal at Bed Time

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Some nights I want to take my father’s glock / and build my skull a sunroof.

Countdown

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My bones will rob me blind, corpuscle by corpuscle.

The Blush of Rose

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Rose was the easiest lay in the Fletcher Memorial Home For The Aged.

Alice Can Derail You in 3/5ths of a Second

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She connects to you via snarling vines & worm-woven tunnels. Drops Roman numerals

The Rodeo of Doom (Excerpt)

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Today is the last day of the semester. It also marks the end of my tenth year as what is referred to as an adjunct, an appendage, a necessary but unidentifiable tentacle in the College of Architecture at Andreas Tangen University in Los Angeles.

I

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I thought of you todayand what you put me throughthe time you saidwe couldn't rest.

An Eventful Inconclusive Evening

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. . . I just didn’t think to call the mortician from the phone outside the grocer’s store, how gauche that would have sounded to any passers-by, a call to a mortuary from outside a grocer’s store!

The Rite and Wrong of Passage

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My sadistic doctor was the only one laughing . Yes sir, I was officially, cordially, confirmed to meet that Irish/ Russian fellow…Colon Oscopy.

Alyssa

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Before the paint spikes Coney Island to the wind, I walk home through the strum of a shield, colder than the one he left behind. For the hour I sprawl along the sidewalk in her laugh, crater's shadows for Wonder Wheel, he is midnight sun in The Last Waltz. Where the glow…

Cold

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I told her I didn't love her. She said love wasn't important; she wanted to marry a man she could respect.

Santa Breaks Bad

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It was bound to happen. Even celebrities can only take so much. The constant comparisons to Christ (people still think He was born in December), assumptions that he was anti-Semite or anti-Islam, and accusations from PETA, now ad litem for…

Echo

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When the poet loves,/ I said, quoting the poet,/ he loves himself.

Aftermath

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Oh sweet, sweet morning light

Love Story

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I fall in love with a second cousin at the picnic. I make sure I sit next to her.

Accidental Discoveries

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They look like giant golden raindrops, or flying saucers, or peculiar fish out of their element

Eggs

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still curious of the taste of eggs finally licking my plate

Salzburg

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One night while in rehab I had a dream that I worked as a violin maker in Salzburg.

Forbidden Music

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There are songs I know to not listen to when I am alone.

Sunbelt Winter Sketches

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Sunlight and the small wind/ swallow the frost/ on rooftops and windshields

Husbands

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What a hoot men are. For years I tried to get Jim to share the cooking. This is how that worked. One Monday night I'd whipped up a meal of steak, tossed salad, two veggies, and dessert with coffee. The next day was Jim's turn to cook and he came home

Caitlin's Boots

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A horn honks, brakes squeal, Chloe’s screaming, pulling at her. She’s lying on the sidewalk. Her shin hurts. Her knee. Chloe kneels beside her. Ring of kids staring. I’m good, she says. I’m good.

Split second

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When people talk about the end moments when one's life flashes before his or her eyes, they often refer to time as slowing down. I can attest to this phenomenon during my final moments, before the collision: the song playing on the radio, the squeal of tires and flash of…

Conjecture

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Sunday, May 9, 1773 Sir — The world must at present be perpetual on the primitive state of human nature Conjecture The jealousy and envy boils over a dead weight strangled serpents in the Temple

Richardson

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What is golf?

Walking To Gibraltar, Chapter 4: In Which A Long Walk Is Considered

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The summer before cancer—the summer of the boy/friend, the summer before Max started high school, the summer when all the decisions about blowing apart their marriage were made—they drove to Martha's Vineyard. Astrid had insisted she wasn't going, rig

One in the Numberless Series of Requiems

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We perform our chosen duty— naming/ beauties and atrocities within