Most read stories

Spider on a Red Thing

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Equality became the next goal, rendering gay redundant in describing marriage. Gaelic life is ringed with sharing and lent the word slogan.

Journey

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She looked out the window. It was raining. “Better than snow” she told herself. She didn’t mind traveling. It was good to travel once in a while. By road, when someone else was driving. Like now, on the bus back home. It gave you time to reflect, re

The Better I Knew Her, the Less I Liked Her

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As I looked in her eyes She told me— she liked to pull wings off flies.

Bitter the Sun When It Is in Hades

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Bitter the sun when it is in Hades High fans meaning nothing keep the heat down but the nitre keeps burning So glows the gloss and high sheen on the skin Foreheads exhibit thought though the eyes are crossed and at night, butterflies i

Visitations

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The squirrels love the sun

A Few Images Illuminating the Difficulty of Being a Young, Talentless Writer in Manila

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A ten-ton bus with ill-manners going slow

The Sadness That Can Be Gulliver’s Travels

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One day, he decided instead to be-pet them,

Me and Frisco on the Road

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I don't think I minded so much watching the trucks hit him, one breaking his spine with a decisive snap, and the other finishing the job by splitting his skull. I don't think I minded watching as much as I did watching those two boys poking around at his

What Happened To The Rain Dance?

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The water quality will give you a hint

Sunday, Brick Lane

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Held tight during the week, clouds now cast off their burden, flinging down a drag-net of sleet.

TV Eye

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the world’s biggest poser fags

A Proper Passsing

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He trudged up the steep, antique, spiral staircase to his study. Many hours had been spent in the sanctuary of this room, studying, praying, sleeping; however, now his intentions were much different.

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

gravelortian part 18

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A poor boy scribbling

gravelortian part 4

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rinse plate cup glass spoon bowl soapy water

The Silent Night

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The Silent Night …

The Happiest Place

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I normally don't photograph well, but today – well, today's different.

london walking (empty streets)

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st. paul is steeped in fog. mist and rain make the north side a grainy faded photograph, almost timeless.

The Spectacle of Freedom

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It had been almost a week since the “last time.” That's what he had shouted at Eduardo after they had returned the boat, after they had watched the mother walk free onto the mainland, childless. The authorities had caught up with them unusually quickly,…

The Meds

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What don't they all do for us?They absorb, eliminate negative feelings and make you smile. To just name a few ... They make you sane, how insane it may seem from a certain point of view.But let me tell you this: I'm 1300 kms away from my family. I don't care much about…

Orbital Mechanics/ National Poetry Month 2014/ 30 poems

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Captain Nemo never died./ He cruises all the seven seas/ below the waves in Nautilus 2,

black crescent curved under

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I hope my blonde down still beats in your heart, and the black crescent curved under, you will remember, and I would move toward your window where my own heart lay in a dish, with the thick valley lifting. Remember, I crossed and uncrossed my legs f

Determination without Negation: A Love Story

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In dreams begin responsibilities--Yeats I'm writing this story to tell you about a mistake, despite the fact that you might find it boring or might consider my writing style onerous or overeager. I begin with…

from Tsalmaveth

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Anastomose my veins to / yours so we may / share // a dream pooled between us

Long Night, Hard Night

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It had been a long night, a hard night. The sky had been filled with blackened clouds, patters of wind snapping and whipping like a pirate's flag hung at full mast. Rain beat…

What'd You Do This Weekend?

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Sometimes your Monday morning answer to the inevitable questions don't have to be so mundane and repetitive. And sometimes they do. No one gives a shit anyway.

space mountain in ghost region from absent-minded continent of misshaped planet

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Cody had a face, a still and shivering dark basement of a face, one with a negative intake that seemed like it was leaning at a downward angle, as if falling off of itself, or committing suicide, jumping off the edge of the world and leaving behind the su

Cakewalk

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She could estimate herself around 30, though this was debatable since she had stopped counting years ago. She looked like a person who would be very pretty if she wore make-up, but she didn’t and therefore wasn’t.

Omens

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The rain falls soft after a hard weekend.

Son

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Trenches coated with man-gruel laced the earth.