Most read stories

The Bookshelves

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rows and sections of casually arranged selectionswell crafted but haphazardpretty objets d'art randomly placed as cluesto significant life moments and revealing preferencesmy mother was an interior designershe would have clucked her tongueher head cocked to the sideas she…

The Gift

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and oh how serratedly so

Antarctica

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I don't have the feelings of self-worth a young woman should have, Monica Lewinsky tells the nation. She seems to understand there will always be some amount of ice beneath her.

No One Else

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All God's Children

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Momma wakes us up early while Daddy's still asleep, pulls out white poster boards, markers from the closet, and together, we draw babies...

gravelortian part 14

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He was an old cat

Atom

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Devour my horror, embrace it as yours

Guramachimachi

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The carnival passed through this hotel one time only, its boarded guests pretending to ignore the smell of outdoor whore in their bedding.

Yes, the End Time Is Near

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We’ll just choke on all our shit

Still Mo Bands

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Cliffhanger Notes Sexpot Bunched Panties Cereal Killer Hello Kitty Litter Canoodle Named Anonymous Clock The Lizard of Oz Luke Warm and the Cold Zippers Megaschnauzer Truffle-Snuffers Pork-Pie Hats Helium Chipmunks Tender Is

The Day of the Dust Devils

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The main street has turned into the lowland of dust devils, with the red sun scorching, continuing to serve the living like a giant blood pentacle.It looks like a heathen ritual invoking an ugly looking God with wings or horns, but beneath the whirlwind of rising…

Sunday Morning Series- 6: I Love You, Man, but Hate Your God

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But if He makes you happy, stands/ as bulwark against the vast, indifferent/ and deadly universe, then cling to Him

The House on El Nino Diablo Court

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On a cold, dark night near to All Hallows' Eve in October of 1930, I was summoned by Constable John Wakefield to the house of Vernalier Driscoll. The constable was wild-eyed and very nervous, his hair appeared to be standing on end.

Happiness

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Sometimes the universe is a coin flipping so fast it’s hard to see which side is polished and shiny.

Don't You Feel Like Crying?

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The sky was dressed in a wedding gown. The hooves of my horse clicked like consonants on the stone of the butte.

Wolf - Variation 5

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his eyes see blood as circumstance.

MATHEMATICA

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...You do the Math

Crossing the Center Line

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He was a Decembrist but he was not / one of the hanged

LEAVES

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...black birds fall from trees...

Nan Sequiter

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there was no mess she couldn’t manage, / no chaos she couldn’t tame.

Philip Guston and the Ultimate Mudball

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The huge mudball has rolled downhill, catching up one of them. Part of a leg sticking up from the surface with its shoe still on, but we can assume the rest of the human, or humanity if you will, is lost somewhere deep inside it.

Beginning, Another Bright Red Day

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Pick up any stick or stone and you'll find the path again. Pick out any lone star and it will shine just for you. The rascal wind simply enjoys messing about with your serious nature. Listen to its…

Yeah, He's Stoned

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He’s so stoned he’s in the zen zone, Which is just beyond the end zone.

Dark

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Slowly, she eased me into my place where I melted into the dark seat

Mother's Poem

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The monsters in the sky burst with riotous laughter, their rumbling voices barking out commands, their cracked nails scratching on the screen, their knotted knuckles tap-taping on the window. Little girl, won't you come out to play? She clutches her floral bed sheets,…

Frank & Frank

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Ok, so I know this guy, he's a friend of mine. A good friend, even though I think he's left too big a tip on the bar more than once. His name is Frank.

Burying the Tramp

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Heaven and hell. Hadley believed in neither. One way or another you’re a meal ticket for someone, best to be the one spending than the one being spent. The worms and insects are getting their meal ticket now, that’s for sure.

Tube-a-Noodles (A Desperate Plea)

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I’m crouched behind my apartment window, practically going crazy.

Music Boxes

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Mom would dig through one of her music boxes to pick out Saturday morning's cleaning jams. Tattered, battered Payless shoeboxes with lids ripped to shit, filled to capacity with piles of cassettes; greatest hits albums, mostly, or Time Life compilations of mid-to-late…

The Heart Jar

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The diner on the corner is one of those Disneyfied modern cut-outs trying to mimic the actual thing but failing utterly. The street, a vein of hipness running through an Ivy League campus that is still trying to cling to a time when it all meant something