Most read stories

Snap

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An eternity in a crashing moment.

Boys With Antlers, Girls With Wings

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Now that you can go to a body shop and get nearly any mod you can imagine printed and attached in about an hour, every cracker-ass redneck is sporting a twelve-point rack...

No Cheese

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My supper consisted of no cheese My marriage consisted of no violin

Writing From Paintings (a meditation on the work of artist Michelle Manley)

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Since we are heading past the outskirts, we find ourselves with a hidden reserve of valor and ability. What is this ability? It is the way we look now at strange new clouds menacing and waiting. It is also the way we head forth into them and their environ

eggs

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i ask you what i taste like and you say "not much."

1 Good Hubcap

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I got one good hubcap I lost the other 3 I just don’t know What the heck is wrong with me I got one good hubcap As you can plainly see The other 3 were seen Just a-hanging from a tree That’s what must’ve happened When I ran my car ri

Christian Bell

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Night LifeThen things started getting weird. I could give you a time frame but it was back when times didn't matter really, one hour as good as the next and the minutes used to be minutes not the digital counting that makes this crazy world now spin. Here was…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 6

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Frank met Angelique Brody on the street in front of his building.

Sauna

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The arid paramour, your breath is hot, dry, cedar. I sweat you corpus fluids and salt and the unnamably impure.

October is the month when your dog dies

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Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.7 - c.3

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Oryn led Ragnorak to a window. It was darkened in the corners with only a red light over the Nocturne.

Joe

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Nephew Joe, my old brother's son, came to fix our pipes. Strapping, strapless, hairless, tanned, he clinked with gold. He came out to us over the pipes... drip drip...I just wanted them fixed pronto. He took precious time. He cried...drip drip...I wanted him to stop. My…

What Momma Draws on Windows

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...the woman of the sun, twelve stars around her head, the moon at her feet.

Downtown

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bullets in flight make sharp, snapping noises.

Three Winter Sketches in Honor of the Vernal Equinox

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an almost perfectly symmetrical/ Cheshire grin of a moon tonight/ above the iced roof of the house

moonstruck

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i waited for the moon last night for hoursfell asleep with the record player on and dreamedof rain running downgutters of sea glass housesthe sun nudged me awakeand she served me toasthe's not serious,she saidhe's half baked,full of…

Wanderer and The Temple

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the odd stone stands/taller than trees/it protrudes from the young forest/an old mecca but smooth

Raleigh

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My dad / always had a fondness for Raleigh’s kind of loss

Food, Marcia, Food!

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Marcia Get a load of This I got two pictures Of food Of food Marcia You're gonna Love it Look at this I got one Of just the salt and Pepper shaker God You're gonna Love this

His house

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His house incubates memories. As he sleeps, they hatch.His house is neither here nor there. It occupies a space between watchfulness and insomnia. Grey birds nest on its roof.His house is a refuge from everything except himself. The floor, walls, roof are fat with him.…

A toast to politicians

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To politicians who think things will stop, When they finally let slip and drop - this government of ours we call The ultimate power of them all.

JUST BECAUSE

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It's been almost two years since I bought it.

Leda, After the Swan

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I do not jerk up to sirens birds doorbell shouts hello hello through the letterbox hello

Candle Smoke Wishes

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“The minute I stopped wondering about the meaning of life is when I finally started enjoying life.”

Kwaazy Wabbit

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destroy the day rip up the track jump in the water eat nothing but bugs

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.

Fix

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I’m sorry. We couldn’t fix the country and left her a bigger mess than we found her Oil leaking from her shores earthquake batter all over her skin We couldn’t fix her, and we’re sorry You’ll find her wreck in tatters at the bus st

THERE IS NOTHING MORE HONEST THAN PAIN

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My parrot Poe freezes when a crow soars outside the window the same way I do when you approach my door. You come knocking late at night. What do you want this time? I yell. To come in you say, please. Go the fuck away, I respond but you keep…

a different kind of poetry slam

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removing oneself sometimes occurs only on the page

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