Most read stories

I Used to Be a Literature Major

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I remember reading poetry in the library / when I was in college, after skipping / Sociology, Psychology, or Theology. / I remember thinking: What is this nonsense? / I don’t want to waste my time on any of this.

Event Particle

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She is a manifold of temporal flows.

Query

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time timed times time

The Violent Kind

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But my point is, this isn’t a Thomas Kinkade. It’s not like you can pay me fifty dollars and I can drive to the Twombly store and buy another Twombly.

Ceremony

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It was possible, she realized, to hope through hopelessness.

Tree Yaupon

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They clog the skimmer basket/ and fill the small Polaris bag.

Countdown

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My bones will rob me blind, corpuscle by corpuscle.

The Bridge

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Anna's daily train commute from the outer suburban fringes to the city reveals a message that changes her life.

Better Off In My Head

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The morning news. The birthday present you bought me. This poem. My hair when I wake up in the morning, at any given point in the day. Pigeon pose. My singing voice. How much I love myself. Coffee. Sex. Not having sex. Having movie star sex. Ha

Haliburton v US: Fallout

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Immediately following the landmark decision, Justice Roberts departed Washington for a six week, thirty state tour to educate and inform the Citizens of the United States regarding the judiciary and its fundamental role in the American Way.

Lola

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I know you through the rich dark brown soilcrumbling in my fingers like chocolate cake.I imagine you nurtured bell-shaped papayas,coaxing their smooth, leathery skinfrom green to yellow,while mangoes, the colors of the island sunset,hung with their tantalizing sweet…

Kittens and the Hands of God

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As the breeze slowly died, another breeze brought her back up, one breeze after another like the hands of God carrying her through the sky.

In The Place Between - Conclusion

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You know what happened. You heard about it. We were considered unuseful to the Nazis and were gassed in those shower rooms. It was all over so quick; I had hardly a chance to understand. I really did not feel anything because before it was over, I, being

The Generic Poem

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I’m just your ordinary poem,

Assiduity Twenty Four

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The grand piano, . . .

egg

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...

My Father Said, "I Miss the Game."

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Of course he misses it,

Diorama

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In the center of the big diorama, the real world hangs in the air by a hook.

Kissing In a Warm Car

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Then I did the same to you, inhaling your scent which was one thing at your hairline and another at your collarbone.

Going the Way of the Dodo

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her expressive sigh releasing. Sated. The last of our kind, evolving flightless we remain on the ground, culling through corpulent consumption.

Paradelle

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A dying man I'll wake, before the dawn; A dying man I'll wake, before the dawn May come and send me far away to sleep. May, come and send me far away to sleep; Before the dawn I'll wake, a dying man: Come, send me far to sleep, May, and away. …

Poem Written While Undergoing ECT

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A human being is here. He doesn't disappear

What's Done, What's Left to Do

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When she was just a little bit younger, Dana wanted to be known around town as something other than the girl who used up all the machines at the laundromat with her little brothers' Spiderman underwear and her grandpa's pants soiled with God-knows-what. Something…

Secure

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This is the Minuteman tine/ of the three-tined fork// we can stick into the modern world/ when it’s done-- a MAD triad.

These Babies I'm Not Having

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They're haunting me with every spotting. They're convincing me they'd be the unexpected blessing. They're confusing me when I look at my already-children, taking on the shape of this one's face, that one's gestures. We've been…

The Window (Part II)

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When we saw the window, we were impressed. It was so clean and transparent that it reminded us of a new pair of glasses, everything so crisp and clear through it. It looked on to nothing. Actually it looked on to the refridgerators and a few stoves, though most of the…

sidewalk cafe at night. van Gogh

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The heart of those stars is a dab of yellow light. The darkness of the blue night appearing so deep because of the downward strokes of the actual sky interspersed with a violet that is almost black above the truly black silhouettes of the city buildings

Honey Bee Men

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"...she's been seeming like she's been dreaming while awake lately..."

Frenchie at the Fair

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Frenchie hustled waffle irons.

Poetry Whores

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Something’s been eating at my craw. I’m just going to go ahead and spill it all out. You ever hear about Poetry Whores? Well, let me tell you a little about them, because if I don’t, then who will? I’m not going to name names. You can pretty much guess