Most read stories

The Fields

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Swat at those screeching children with tufts of harp-grass. Flail, mad eyed and sad sighed with all gleaming hope gone out of the daylight. Swat and screech swat and screech. We continue until their thick bark-like hides are smooth and polished. We sand them with…

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.

The Form of a Cyclist

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His legs were pedaling hard and his heart was beating fast, He's got his scars; He can't outrun his past, Down the hill he goes, wind whipped his hair, a new style with each draft. He broke his brakes long ago; He cut the cable and ripped off the pads. He cried…

The Grid

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From this fundamental simplicity,/ houses, cities, regions./ A nebula stretches across the grid.

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…

Losses in Translation

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One/ can’t always trust the eye and ear// in such matters but what can one do?/ Mistakes will be made.

Free Form Jazz of Spiritual Harlem

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we are one

What Was It

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we were all meant to do with our love? What I can think of is to ask the question again. I suppose there are others more willing to supply you with a proper answer, but none seem real to me. These words are only stones,meant to skip across the…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 13

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Tuesday morning while Frank was in Dr. Jawarski’s office, Michiko was sitting in the waiting room of a gynecologist’s office.

The Hostage

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My mother should have been a minister or a peace officer. Instead, she was a homemaker who ran the home like an agency. There were certain hard and fast rules.

Salon du Monde

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I sit there reading a magazine while the woman clips my claws. From time to time I watch Kim’s face.

How to Write a Poem in 7 Easy Steps

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1. Research how to locate and outline the chin of a toy terrier. Find a toy terrier, outline its chin, then count the hairs on said chin to determine the number of lines your poem will have.

Too Far

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Standing there as you walked away from me that late March afternoon, in the park off Meridian Street, the spring tableau seemed

Sitting On a Powder Keg - song

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I just sit here thinking You’re cheating on me again It’s how you acted last time The same as it’s ever been Don’t wanna go ballistic What’s inside your head? Why don’t you just tell me Who’s been sleeping in that bed

OCTOBER 22nd

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A young officer approached the lawn where Shane was picketing with friends. All from middle-class neighborhoods, none considered "troubled," they were beginning to learn that obeying the law wasn't always enough . . .

With Respect to a Fellow Poet

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We do not all love each other for the sake of our shared art, apparently.

Two Dog Poems

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maybe a day in deep winter

The Last Warrior

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His wings, like tiny shoots, grew a season in an instant. The pain was gone now. He rose up as effortlessly as centaurs run, as angels fly. "I will sing your name as my brother among my brothers," the Seraph promised. Kladius watched the beasts below

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 3

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That put a real crimp in our already crimped sex life. Actually I didn’t mind as much as Allison minded. It made her real grumpy when she didn’t get laid. I could never understand how she could bear so much pain, because she was so small that it was l

A Few Random Things I Learned About Bill Murray from "The Big Bad Book of Bill Murray."

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He once owned a dog named Bark. As a kid, he was kicked out of the Boy Scouts of America. His childhood nickname was “Sleepy.” When he was little, and alone, he used to sing songs to God. When he joined Second City in 1973, the troupe was…

Another Time

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My boyfriend had to work but had gotten a turkey for free and thought I could make it for everyone for Christmas Eve dinner. I had never made a turkey before, and not much of anything else. Now if my sister had been there, it might have been a meal of cul

Genius

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It was entirely my fault, misreading signals. I have a clumsy imagination, mistook your gushing about my boobs as a soul connection. Then you said something about us being lovers in a past life, and I remembered Bobby Bubion from high school, his strategy for…

April

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Well, hello hunger: what a sweet surprise.

This Outhouse Reeks

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The bathroom had exposed rusty pipework, A minty lemonade smell, Ice in the urinal, And a wall of stone-cold mirror. She put some lipstick on, but it looked fake under the lint-covered bulb dangling overhead. She wiped off the lipstick but…

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.

Bees in the Eaves

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We write in darkness. We love in alleys. We breathe into beige paper bags. Anything to mollify the confusion. Anything to simplify the math.

PTSD

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the queue for hell

Contentions

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...a session/ of hide and seek/ among the syllables.

Junk Pulse

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Me included...

Blue Dresses

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It makes me feel like a dirty old man: adorning Celia, Making an offering of my blue dresses, adorning Celia.