Most read stories

how to kill a dragon dead (except)

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the worm was stabbed where two rivers branch:/who would slay was slain.

Quantum Quandary

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I love the notion of uncertainty-/ which seems inherent/ at the level of particles-

The Cat Pulls No Sudden Punches

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and springs its ready-made claws into action and takes a soppy chance that things will probably go its feline way today. But you, my friend, must you always throw the testing switch to high voltage on me? Yeah I get that the history teachers…

Mural, Mosaic, and Satori

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He thought of natural violence that had to do with the wind and the Atlantic Ocean. He thought of the Gulf Stream, that important title, that someone had shown him on a map and explained about in detail.

Snap

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An eternity in a crashing moment.

The Anchorman

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Welcome back to our ongoing coverage of what we mean when we say "Tsunami: A Very Bad Thing."

Downloaded Cheats

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You are my intergalactic princess / The most beautiful in twelve systems

Reading Without an ISBN

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The goal is to perform along with Jason Lee Norman--who is touring with his book of very short stories called Americas--a selection from my own collection called Country Without a Name. The symmetry excites me.

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

Starlight

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I've been chasing something that cannot be caught.

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…

Un(en)titled

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Our trouble decided when the CUNY PhD student, a poet, cried out, “Racination!” during discussion of my poem.

Gilbert B Fumbleberry

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“You know, Miss Viv, I love looking at the sun when it’s almost gone. It kinda looks like an orange and apple squished together. Those are the colors. And the puffy clouds under it look like a bed. It’s going to sleep."

Decided

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Millicent asked me to stop over at her place for coffee after work because we needed to talk. While pouring, she said she was torn about telling me what her father used to do to her when her mom was not around, but she thought I needed to know how twisted her life was…

Experimental Poetry

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Sometimes the dirt just stays dirt

The Avenues Of Occupation And Other Short Stories

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A vanishing of something we never got to see. All we've been left with are impressions, imaginings

Struggle for Life

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7.53Another morning ritual. Trying to fill the loose ends of time in the early morning is a task.7.54I've done about everything, too early to work and too late to go back to sleep. 7.55Trying to avoid the nausea of life at all cost. My mind is a snakepit, filled with…

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame must burn!

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This is a call to burn down the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. It is everything wrong with our culture boiled down to one location. Ground Zero of hypocrisy. The spot where the very spirit of rebellion has been stolen by corporate America.

Pageant Night

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All the baby monsters are being born on stage.

No Cheese

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

Strawberry Daiquiris

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A hot summer night walks into a bar and orders a drink.

The Donkey

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Since dawn doesn't understand my words, I will give them to the donkey, finely cut for him, let them ferment some time and add a few sprigs of lucerne. The donkey grazes in the meadow down the road and always welcomes me with a grin that displays his mauve gums and his…

But You Said

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A decade, at minimum, was how long their notes had transpired.Still, they all knew how it would end.

Three : Sixteen

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We are a city of overworked workers.

it was after a revolution, or a war, or some disaster

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I had this dream. We were living together, and we were in bed asleep when strange, enormous cats began crowding around our windows and meowing. They made awful scratching and scraping noises at the windows, trying to come in. But I couldn’t wake you up.

The New Lycanthropy

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Who remains after the aching night has departed into dawn and left us to week-old sleep

Love Poem

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I need to be not sure

the long white cloud above my body

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Butter me up, moon lover. Remember, I was once your warm and hot goddess of flowers, washed to shore with the others you may have forgotten. Now the issue of the earth gets nearer, and we can see each other once again, if only in our dreams. Just be

Clipboard Cutie

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Perhaps she’s also a do-gooder. One of those socially conscious, change-the-world type girls complete with a never ending supply of life’s own contagious enthusiasm.

Deadheading

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The cicadas hissed and chirruped until the air was thick with a noise like mechanical bedsprings bouncing for the 4th of July.