Most read stories

Anselm Kiefer Painting, 1

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The damaged sky is not more black than your hair, Ashen tonight and floating over the land in blackened Smoke, where the furrows run with milk light Or snow, blue and white, and the world-ash floats. Your patient body sleeps and the white pain

Easter

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This was how he circumnavigated people, bartering like a viking setting prices on the edge of an ax-blade.

4:09 and American Music

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If you knew everything, you would not be able to sit on tropical balconies at 4:09 A.M., discovering a book and then the world for the first time If you were part of the spiritual set, and could astral travel far and wide, but neglected to open the door…

How to Lose Control of Your Pencil

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Real hands

Fibers(next:our world without ice caps/yipes!)

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The light they love to hate so much is always pulsating within each life; the unbelievable color sword of what happens next when any two people find each other in their hearts and all pretense is somehow gone, for at…

remembering

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I remembered because the man took us to see the horses. I didn't see something that set off a series of memories. I only saw the stables and the moon sitting pensively below the firmament. I looked at these and there was spaciousness between the moon and the stables and…

Mind Altering

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She felt like she was turning into someone else, someone who appeared normal. She would be inundated with everyone else's ideas, morphing into an insipid lemming, smiling and bantering about mindless things. She wouldn't even care she had changed...

Blame It on The Good Stuff

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That was nearly two years and a thousand smiles ago.

Drunk and Driving the Family Home

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I felt like-

Condos Dumping Lawyers for Paramilitary Death Squads

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“Honorable condominium association members,” the leader begins. “I apologize for not having a PowerPoint slide show tonight, but me and my muchachos travel light.”

Panic Pure

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He said, “It was only after I broke my neck and even like maybe a year later that I really started realizing that I had something to say.”

Like There Was No Tomorrow

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And there on the street Were a bunch of frantic pigeons Picking over some discarded Chicken bones I mean they were really Going to town on them You know, frantic Like there was no tomorrow And then I saw it A real sign of progress

Heavy Weather

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The blue of the sky pierced her heart. She patted her lips with her tongue and turned to him. “We have to talk.”

Literary Intercourse

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Meaning is harder to sell, unless it’s an analysis of why there is a Justin Bieber.”

Bitter About Pay, Poet Laureate Strikes Catty Tone

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Duffy struck an adversarial tone from the outset, offering up a first poem about improper expenses submitted by members of Parliament that ruffled feathers across party lines.

Blow Me

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[BEEZLEBUB SAYS, "GO!"]

Professor University

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Is this a tenure track position?

The Prompter

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Here is a not remembering

Abby

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The music is too loud in here and it's hurting my ears. I know some of the words to the songs because my older sister listens to the same stuff when she's in her bedroom and is playing her iPod and my dad yells at her to turn that crap down. I like my dad. He calls me…

Notes to the Dead

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The kind of poem poets write and read. I mean, hey I was feelin’ it HARD at 3:24 am, and this is what spilled out.

Self-Medication to Lovecraftian Horror

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There is something preposterous / about existing in a universe so vast: / Such a big playground for such tiny children, /

The Days, the Weeks

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Next morning the thought crosses my mind of snapping Mom’s neck, making sure she’s dead, and then running down to the sea to drown myself.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 69

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The Gringovitch family was gathered in the lobby of the hotel. The boys sat on the floor using their packs as back supports. Francesca Gringovitch sat on a chair with the remaining luggage in front of her.

The Further Chronicles of Mars (tribute to Ray Bradbury)

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And in the dark caves a new secret, hidden from flyby probes and the imagination of men. In these new caves, names for the loved ones, Bradbury, Clarke, Rover

Match Book Covers

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We all wish to partake in great events.

gravelortian part 25

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I come up and out of the hole onto a village street in the middle of a parade celebrating the arachnid god.

August, now and after

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I'll see her this fall, a redhead in camo

last attempt at innocence

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When we were leaving to go to the ice rink, Lynda surprised all of us by saying she wanted to come along. She slid all the way over in the front seat to be next to me, while one of my buddies, Miller, who had his eye on her himself, slid into the passen

Last Cricket

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The weather, mid-sixties now, will take its toll on this singular voice.

Turning Heads

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Crows cawed, kvetched.