Most read stories

Suicidal at Bed Time

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

Santos

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Further down a small group of men lolled near a doorway.

Excelsior - A Poem in 9 Parts (post 3 of 5)

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IV. From Hoover Dam The intent of passive presence wreathes an endless ring, Invisible, beyond all thoughts and change to sickness. This hour beats sibylline as vacancy, breathing Through mouths that do not taste their nothingness. I do not know where you are;…

There is a Sadness

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now I cannot shake. I am only one person. Thereis a sadness I cannot understand. Fathom. Control. Manipulate. Detonate.I used to kiss her tenderly. Do you think this sadness is wise to us? Don't point that gun at me! There is a sadness. There is another war. Iam…

Jonestown on a Global Scale

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Picture it-/ air not clogged with the shit// that makes Beijing the dark joke/ of the developed world.

On Learning a Lover Died a Suicide

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I got the news that you had died as I was eating American chop suey, watching the Celtics.

Back East

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Could even drift off to New Orleans for a slow sip of a hurricane

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.

Momma's Elephant

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...she had marked the stars with a blue pen, connected the dots to make Andromeda, Cassiopeia, told us of the gods behind the stars...

A Little Man on a Rainy Corner

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He is sitting in the infinite rain and the water is making him some infinite silhouette

The Frog

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Publisehd in Linguistic Erosionhttp://www.linguisticerosion.com/2014/08/the-frog.html When Jesus and Magdalene began to cross the sunflower field they met a group of boys, squatting before a rocky outcrop. Covered with…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 41

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Frank was about to take the first bite of a chicken salad sandwich.

13 poets in Hell

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1Paradise Lost is cast into the lake of fire. Satan tells John Milton to rewrite it in 140 characters or fewer.2Filippo Marinetti languishes in a dismal rural idyll. His hand, possessed, scrawls euphonic odes to the moon with a quill.3Henri Michaux floats through the…

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.

The Price of Empire

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I saw three kids the other day, two girls and a boy, crouched in conspiracy

Suicide Consulting Hotline

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We exist to facilitate/ successful conclusions of hopeless lives.

Autumn

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Early morning cokeBottle. Did Katie callHeiddegger "Skippy"?Remember years backWhen we studied so hard andHa ha, just kidding.As you age, neverForget you are dying noFaster than before.

Buzzard

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what lies, in my eyes

Paradise

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The oval-shaped, pearl-white objects shimmered soundlessly in the warm sunlight. Suddenly one object veered off and headed towards them stopping to hover not twenty feet away. Suddenly their phones vibrated simultaneously. They both looked at their messa

Musica

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A sizzling as skin and sinew melt, fall away. "Scream if you need to scream, child." And I scream, and her song gains strength. The warmth of her around me. It is time.

Spirit Voices Saying Yes

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some are cameras, some are daggers, some are sauces pans, others are swords, and some will run off and others will burn a hole into the spot which they land.

Love Verse

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

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…

Yellow Cabaret

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Hail the yellow cab the yellow one will do just fine as second condiment to the sun

Yet More from The Chronicles of His Demise

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The Muse//has used/ me up

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 48

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If you shoot at them now, it'll be attempted murder or, worse, premeditated murder.

Commotion with Coffee

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The retired, widowed receptionist slapped one hand to the base of her throat with a gasp . . .

Bare Ruined Palace

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Every encounter is a dance, every secret has its key

Mothers

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No, no mother’s tenderness: she shows no sign of that … Do you know that she has them make their own bed? No, not the girl: the boys too! Yes, the boys. She humiliates them.

Donkey Kong

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Don’t get me wrong. Maria Shriver is hot, but her angled face makes me think a knife thrower is out to get me.