Most read stories

Sorry

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...society has tampered with its denotation so much that it is almost incomprehensible without context.

Cats

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and you imagine euthanizing them if what she says is true, that she is leaving them to you in her will.

Excelsior - A Poem in 9 Parts (post 2 of 5)

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II. ByCoalport Your hair streams minarets across a bridge, The…

New Year's Eve, 1975

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contacts, false eyelashes, strappy open-toed sandals

a girl's mane

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Wild bore the wind down on me, coming out of the heavens that turned around the stars of the evening. The longing and the appetite at work in the body, all tickling to open a girl’s mane, gaping, health-giving crossroads to the body. Hail and farewell t

Senior Center

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Some of the elderly men and women are coming forward....

In an Irish pub with a lot of oiled wood

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“I love women. They’re like goddesses.”

Cracked Heart Reigns in My Eyes

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Rainy eyes fall fast somewhere close to me Riding the wind like lust

It's really not the same

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It wasn't the same as taking a course with Ginsberg. Everyone knew Ginsberg. Nick Cave, too, everyone knew him. Waiting lists were full months in advance for those classes, everyone sent in resumes and writing samples, praying, begging to be included. Lish was just an…

Yet More from The Chronicles of His Demise

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The Muse//has used/ me up

End Time

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and you fall down.

At the Jr. Algonquin Roundtable

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“He didn’t finish ‘The Witchcraft of Salem Village,’” Scooter says, tattling on his little brother. I’m projecting him to be a first-round draft pick by the National Security Agency in about ten years.

My Hillbilly's Got a Hole In It

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My hillbilly’s got a hole in it And I think I’m gonna die I swear you can see right through him Got a big hole in his side I think I pulled the trigger On the truth gun at my side Then it just got bigger It started getting wide He tried

Dating My Terrorist

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“Maybe you should consider dating your terrorist,” my dad said to me. “Most terrorists, I think their problem is they can’t get a date. "

Can't We All Be Writers?

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Why not just self-publish on Fictionaut and be read by thousands of my peers? Why not release my cherished work directly to my thousands of Facebook or Twitter or blog friends? Can the budding writer that I am realistically expect a larger audience?

Real Life

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Just like real life before poundsigns.

Your Dream Advisor

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Every night I say "I dream about you all the time, Nae Ann," but the truth is I don't. I dream about stupid crap at work like air filters for a 2006 Mazda RX-8 GT.

Noir vs. Noir

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You're sitting in a darkened theatre with Gothic ceilings and one exit watching the latest Alan Ladd film with William Bendix and Veronica Lake.

20,000 Years of The Apartment For The Dead

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He saw places that he hadn't thought existed. He found his analog from 17,000 years ago praying inside of a white pyramid in Kathmandu, and saw how the fireballs being catapulted through the air outside were stopped in midair by a beam coming from the top

Random Little Linguistic Discharges

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Eat the Body/ Drink the Blood/ Perfect the sacrifice,

Perdita in pieces

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Perdita's confusing profusion of parts makes it impossible to know which way up she goes.She flutters beneath the camera's shuttered stare, …

True Stories About False Dancers

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The world is a mighty funny place. It spins wildly and we are held down by its strong ghostly gravity. We're still able to communicate with one another over morning coffee and delicious cake donuts dipped in chocolate. Some of us used to keep…

i've worn it like a trophy all day

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if i could i would leave/ my beating heart like flowers/ pumping blood upon your doorstep/ in gory testament/ to the way you make me feel.

Star Light, Star Bright

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I am experience and information// at a small but irredeemable remove.

Every Headache

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It’s possible that you’re dying. Every headache a brain tumor, your friend once said. You laughed then. Now you begin to see what he meant.

Landmarks

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Play somethin’ solemn, they told me, or somethin’ that sounds like home or the mountains in summer.

Love Verse

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A gentle man, and a fierce woman, charmed one another in a shaded gazebo.

Remember?

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We'd been talking about the baby, about what we would do, when the women began fighting after the wedding held in the church next to our apartment. Their fierce and piercing arguments crawled up the walls to the second story window we sat next to. We'd looked outside…

Nanny

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I remember the days when my brother and I would walk down Tillman Square, careful to avoid the cracks zigzagging along the ground. Well I did. My brother made a point to step on every one.

Star-eater; a poem

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Star-eaterHere lies the star-eater.Tilting on the ancient wheelof summer-glaze-breath,you speak the oceans. Fire's the mealfor you, the star-eater. You defy death,and out of your mouth, a universe openspouring forth, as fleet as the starslight on your tongue. Space…