Most read stories

Tattooed Thumb

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A tattoo of a river steamboat, one you dreamed up in your sleep and drew yourself is anchored around your nail bed on your thumb. I paint my nails with regatta sails. The toxic fumes sting my nose. You say you're bored and take out a needle filling it with ink. I watch as…

Sharp-shinned

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Survival is often violent.

*cute little space bat with scissors*

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I AM A FIRE SWAN! THIS IS MY QUILT! YOU ARE MY QUEEN!

July Night At Greenlake

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In the vaultwhere no one had daredsince your first stillborn screamsI swept out your deadThe gnawing thingsboneless and dustyand stinking of churchesYou came to me thenand I took youthere in the shadowsunder the tree on the grassnear the reeds by the lakeI dived in your…

The Girl Next Door to Andy

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Then there was this short little girl, Jo Ann, who had a daughter and was divorced, who lived next door to my buddy Andy. She told me right after we did it one night that she had always wanted to have sex with me when she was growing up, as a teenager, I

Big Pig News

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A pig weighing nearly 300 pounds was discovered in the back of a wrecked car in Youngstown, Ohio. The car, a Nissan Cube, was totaled, but Penelope the pig was unscathed. The car, which belongs to Wendy Thrasher, Penelope's owner, was apparently stolen

Charlie's Travels

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Charlie Hancock missed the bus. Started walking.

Miss Ang Has a Very Comfortable Life

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"Is all life suffering?" Miss Ang asked as she parked in front of the brothel. The concrete monstrosity stood humble and lost in appearance, but the locals knew what transpired there, as did the truckers and businessmen that frequented the Phetkasem Highw

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.

Black BoBbY BuRiED

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Bobby turned black yesterday. Not like his ethnicity, or skin color. But his soul. Not his soul. Not black either. But a violet desecrating blue. That kind of blue that use to sit in the ocean, then dried up, and vanished into a big terrifying stupor. He looked at me with…

Revenge poem for Sara, following her disparaging remarks about my unfamiliarity with the literary history of the East Coast

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In distant climes ’cross landlocked plains, where history digs still-shallow roots, From masonry a statue looms And in her arms gay pigeons roost.

ancients

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rheumy eyes wink, gnarled hands pantomime

this never happened and yet i tell myself it did each morning

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i watch my mind not wanting to touch the vanished rusty notes remain objects of consciousness heaven and hell inside us each moment birds fly through mental speech dark garden rain olive green cool breath of betrayal siempre mixed with greed awakens…

Father Dunne's School for Wayward Boys #6

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Instead, we found his red-inked list of boys who would never be saved,

Entomophobia

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And I admire// the orchestrations of ants and honeybees/ and the persistence and adaptations/ of the cockroach.

LOVE IS NOT THE ONLY THING

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When I was a very little girl—I was five—my mother and a black gentleman she was incarcerated with broke out of a mental institution and kidnapped me.

Crumpled

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We wanted so much to find ourselves in a beautiful world. It was, and is, but every inviting leaf has got another hidden dangerous precedent that must be surrendered to in order to survive to see another sunset with the ones you actually…

Where We Come From

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Where We Come From (ver. 2.0) (Leadwood, Missouri pop. 1,200) I Matt lit a joint here driving beneath the arms of dying trees The moon shone through in jigsaw puzzles that we could never quite figure out Gravel crackled like leaves in fire …

Measures

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Pascal would let something slip now and then. He was sharp and spoke excellent English, with a beautiful Spanish accent. He corrected speech among the guys, but he exercised his lessons in grammar with an eloquence that fascinated all of us, not letting a

We Are Bad Poets

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Fuck love :)

Long Division

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This energy said, "Fuck it, I am going to be the fucking sun." In it’s language it sounded more like "Khershhhhhhh Hhhhhhhhhhh Zirshhhhhhh."

Losses

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Each day, I lose more words-/ nouns and verbs- but especially// proper names. People and places

Thanks, Target!

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A tanka poem inspired by the 40 million debit card numbers stolen from Target stores since Black Friday last month.

Begonia {part eight}

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Like a scroll spinning swiftly before his eyes, he deduced that the tracks around him could have been left by nothing but a dragon. “Father God, protect her,” he said as the gravity of Isabella’s situation hit him.

The Conversion

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She became suited to herself only. She no longer tried in any way to fit, she fought the molds they created and kept moving in her own direction. Often forward, sometimes a bit backward, and she rightly scaled her own Mt. Olympus and there she sat with he

a walk on the moon

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I know I used to say I’d rather walk on the moon with my own rapacity. And you can easily say things like that, given the luxuriance of youth. But it was a lie, if you want to know the truth. That is only so much hot balloon air, puffed up in the chest,

Chest Bump Bass Detroit

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son a superfly/alligator shoe clad/networking man/working a beeper and flip phone/twisting blueberry spliffs/on ma's porch

A Walk Among Pigeons

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A Walk Among Pigeons I know these pigeons. They were beggars in another life. I may have been among them once, but then I fell in love, and when that ended, my spirit floated free. And I became, though somewhat battered and b

Woman Things

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...when the doctor scrapes the baby out, he cuts out all the things that make babies, too...

"A Wedding Feast" (a lost parable of Jesus)

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There was much joy in Galilee, for it was not often that two marriages, not merely one, were celebrated in one ceremony.