Most read stories

Next Time, Academics

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I suggested when we passed the flesh shack that we turn around and that I go in and say to the sex workers that the Russians are fetching $3.5K per hour in Manhattan and it's private, unlike there at that road-side shack.

Metaphor Therapy

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"Psst! You can't hide behind a broken dream.The gardenia's hint that fills your air with her perfumed scent will remain like a residue on your mind. I wish there were an antidote I could share with you, but alas, my apothecary drawer is empty. Many times it's been my…

who really wants to be a virgin anyway?

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I remember thinking virginity was highly over-rated. Who really wants to be a virgin anyway? I got out of that state as fast as I could. Sixteen years (okay maybe 15 and a half) is long enough of not knowing what to do with your body. Screw that! But th

By Misadventure

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...when they spotted each other through the glass, with he inside and she outside, she quickly began licking her fork obscenely, attempting to exhibit her sexual prowess with regard to the dexterity of her tongue and mouth...

Storms at the Door

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My Mother always said that a storm was death knocking.

Bringing a New Poet into Your Home

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You may want to pretend to leave once or twice, peeking in through a window from a darkened room, to see how they interact. Never leave a new poet unattended with the pack until you’ve determined that the new arrival has learned to fit in with the other w

Drowning By The Pool(2nd Revised Version)

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The entire room seems waiting for me like an octopus behind a closed, chained door. The monk of the lamp knows he will get his daily turn-on if he prays loudly and just enough for it. The favorite chair has my blue dent in its punched…

COD: Extreme Hunger

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Mid-laugh, Mr. Adams caught himself. His eyes welled, flooded with guilt for chuckling at his son's funeral.

On The Way To Shabriz

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these dead letters for you... and then they withdrew... something happened on the way to shabriz... my fingertips fell on their knees.

CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS

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Joanne Simpson sat in her pew of the church that dominated her tiny town, listening to the buzzing of disturbed voices like a hive of bees trapped in a wall. She knew exactly what was wrong. Some parishioners sat on the edge of the pews, while some whispe

Bare Ruined Palace

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Every encounter is a dance, every secret has its key

Not as a Poet

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She's not a poet, but does she have to be? She comes to the reading to read the poems of her recently dead husband, for she made a vow: that she would read his work at an open mic. Now she is keeping her word. It's her way of keeping him alive or maybe it's his way of…

Matchbox Car

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Clatters and clatters ensued, and the splash destroyed all denial.

Meticulous

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Have you measured the cups, the conveyors' yield? Do you know the span? I am the LORD your God, she murmured.

The Class of '61

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My head is nailed to yesterday.

On the Way To

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Robbie’s wrists itched hard, the cord was sunk in so tight his hands were bordering now on blue, now purple. Too late to matter.

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

Crumbling Stones Crush Our Self Esteem

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Jimi and Janis remain fierce and beautiful

Cairn

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Your cairns/ are litter in the streets

In Which Mad Dog Kicks French Women's Bony Butts

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If Mad Dog were interrogated by female U.S. forces in a combat-riven no-woman’s-land to see if he was really an American, he couldn’t name the most recent WNBA champion.

Manifesto of ism

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We walk though the streets of London, New York, Paris, Prague, Barcelona, Skegness, inhaling air heavy with metaphors, eyes set alight by the microscopic pyrotechnics of quotidian symbols hitherto debased by the outmoded conventions of a bankrupt civilisation decomposing in…

Blue Crabs

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The perfect murder, and it’s not even murder.

Airline Passengers! Is There A Right To Recline?

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It's called the Knee Defender. But I prefer to think of it as the Schmuck Identifier.

2

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Then I am in Washington DC impersonating an accountant.

It's Like That

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Like the term rogue cop

In Real Life

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I’m starting to feel more interested in my savings account.

Dramarama and Acid Wash Jeans

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Looking down you wonder, when did I eat pineapple? and Am I really this awesome or am I a facsimile of something that really sucks, even if it's that 'it's so bad it's good' kind of thing? Nope, it's just bad.

Audience

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At 19 words, the whole piece is a snippet.

Psycho Logic Deregulation

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" . . . the government works for the aliens now, taking over the world. That's why everything's so screwed up."

One Story Above the Boy in an Old Car

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Near dusk today a car backfired on the street beneath my office window