Most read stories

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.

Blind Jack

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The blind can be a little bit Angry now and then Trying to be independent They don’t want or need your help Usually. They’re a little like bees You have to learn to leave them alone But I remember one day when I Guided the fingers of Bli

Exoskeletal

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Tell you what, if people only knew what the buggo does to your insides before it shellacs your outsides they'd think twice before dancing. And guys like us, we'd get parades. Guys like us, oof-oof! Im-mune to romance.

Crumbling Stones Crush Our Self Esteem

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Jimi and Janis remain fierce and beautiful

I'll take anyone

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Plus women can be really sexy when their horny and plump with baby envy. If I could make a hard-on I’d like to be around for that.

wintering

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a name is what you are, and a name is a wall between. one day let me be earth, so you may be allowed to say you love me. for now i am separate. i'm afraid that's how i will die, and …

On Deciding Not to Be a Bitch

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Deny yourself that pleasure For my sake; that feeling beyond measure That you get when you finally, and with much angst, Decide not to be a bitch, to a round of general thanks.

A Study in Plastics

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She sat Indian style against the strawberry tree. In her hand she held a little mirror and a note that her father left her that morning. What a night, eh? See you in the morning. That’s what it said.

Ambassador of Nowhere

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Before you tripped on the third rail, you were like any other: coat a shard of midnight-blue, eyes filled with gratitude but for nothing. You were a lost coyote on a snowy hill. With sad magnificence you wandered, terrorizing passengers who secretly wished to pat your…

Myra's Cigarettes

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I know from the experience of too many odd sideways glances that folks are seldom interested in my brand of observation. No one else seems to wonder how many commas there are in the library or how many other people own that exact shirt.

Off the Record

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“In other words you're going to lie through your teeth..."

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?

Roads Sign and Speech Acts

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Notice: No Trespassing. Warning: Falling Rock. Caution: Dangerous Curve. Declaration: I Love You.

Stay By Me (And Make the Moment Last)

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I imagine Gene Simmons licking a twelve year old girl that looks like Erin dressed in a dog collar and leash.

A Life of My Own - 8

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I'm not sure if he's right or not but he has a gorgeous smile, he's charmingly self confident, and he's very persuasive.

We Are Not Alone

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The bank bought out the miles of land behind our property.

Magnetic Soup Wagon

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We may sniff a gush of something in the rush of heat round a petrol bomb. Or reap a gift from the cracked head of a hero.

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…

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…

Monsters

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I have always been frightened of Ferris Wheels

Small Boat Row (Told Through a Roughed Out Dungeon Window)

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The princess knew exactly where to find that annoying, gurgling frog of her childhood, but she wasn't wearing the right shoes to step delicately onto a lily pad with, so she decided there and then to take a stolen boat out onto that soft mission, all by herself,…

Max Beckmann Poem

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the unutterable things of this world

Zero

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The arithmetic of human experience/ is always a losing game for some. Poor Jane. Rich Dick.

the leisure to walk about sweetly

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You seemed to have that leisure to walk about sweetly when I was with you, honey-singing the reward for the intensity of emotion you lunged about in. Nothing seemed like it was going to hurt or harm anyone, even while I was going nuts between the legs.

The Ruined Person

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The pit of my stomach was bottoming out, this lurching sort-of feeling one experiences when one has coasted WELL OVER an abyss and has no way of finding one's bearings . . .

Vacuum City

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What chaos comes from / insufficiency? What else can calcify dreams?

Erasing the Modern World

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An electromagnetic pulse/ scrubbed the servers./ The clouds wisped and blew away, empty./ Markets lost what little mind they had.

Poet Found Living Near Berkeley!

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Reports have been spreading fast that an actual living poet has been found right outside the borders of Berkeley Rumors grew into a wildfire of speculation Saturday night when one of them a tall graying older specimen more or less in the

Good boy.

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It’s quite simple - don’t move. No fake or feint - just stand your ground. The fixed gaze, the thousand yard stare, hold your place.

Sorry

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