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Another subject of interest is "furverts"--"individuals who engage in sexual activity while dressed in animal costumes."
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128502
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There's a whole pack of us, men minted from hot brass and thumbtacks.
Too tough for sensibility's sake.
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128510
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Two lovers — their genders / faces / social identities / etc. up to the viewer’s imagination (though I caution you, dear reader, not to imagine yourself in this role due to the psychic intensity of the following passages) — writhe against each other
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1284118
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youthful pin oaks grant solemn attention to the aluminum gurney
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128450
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The banality of his own state of boredom, a luxury to be satiated with violence, to hack with an axe the exposed neck of his friend.
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128412
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Tom wasn’t crying.
A few snowflakes, the first of the season, flittered down and landed on Elizabeth’s new headstone, christening it. Tom didn’t have his topcoat, and he never buttoned his suit. He tried not to shiver. Lynn lifted her face from Tom’s c
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1284138
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Humanity comes without a choice
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128411
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Trenches coated with man-gruel laced the earth.
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128497
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I'm writing you this letter played on a cherry flute. I'm sending it along through the poem's cloud of incense. The only delivery system I still hitch up for long distance pitching. I'm writing you a letter you'll probably never read. Never…
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128411
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You think about bears and it gives you a headache? Don’t give them that power.
You see bears and it gives you a headache? Don’t run. Don’t walk but don’t run.
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128443
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September 21, 2009 Dear Diary, She learned English by doing crosswords, my mom. I'm sure she picked up a few things from the people around her as well, but yeah, always doing crosswords. When I lived too far away to visit regularly, I bought a Scrabble…
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128400
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When the village slept, the men came knocking.
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128400
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The concourse had become his second home, he knew it that well. His fellow passengers were the houseguests he couldn't get rid of, the workers at the restaurants and gift shops a personal…
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128453
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She had some fascinatingif incongruoustwins of swing hips.Her eyes made me thinkof opium densof fast women without a twitch,the sweet despair of gentlemen loserswith their 19th centuryhandbooks of moralityand witchcraft. But she only wanted mefor my Fuji Red…
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128400
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128421
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My man’s got a habit that’s kinda strange.
I’ve got a feeling he’s never gonna change.
Whenever I take a trip,
when I git back, my underwear’s ripped.
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128400
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A man walks on the moon my mother knew at Purdue.
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1283107
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128300
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Everyone wants to feel like the world has lined up against them and any achievement they have been able to attain was done despite the best efforts of everyone who isn't them. That's a given.
But there is one group of people who seem to have a point.
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128340
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“This isn’t fair!” I rail to my late wife. “It’s all right for you, why not me?” She never answers me directly. Not in whispers, or with knocks, or even dreams.
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128300
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They do exist though. They have for centuries and when one comes forward and is vocal and authentic, it pays to give a listen. How to know if they are authentic? They charge nothing, they fear nothing and they merely exist in the world, just as you and I
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128311
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I’m crouched behind my apartment window, practically going crazy.
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128332
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He doesn't tell her that he is married, and that his five year old daughter who is living at your house has a mother back in that same city
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128342
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That morning in the driving rain a sequence of automobiles appeared on the streets in the region with headlights in the form of television monitors
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128351
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128300
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They ride horses through the living room ....
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128310
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I think of particles exploding, coming back together like some physics experiment I don’t know the name for. “Large Hadron Collider,” you say. But that’s not what I mean.
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128300
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When I wake, I wonderwhat leaves the smile haunting my lips.There is only a ghostly remnant of your eyes, your touch, your kiss. Now I long for the Sea of Dreams,but my body is here imprisoned.Awake, I cannot reach you.The ship has departed; the tides have…
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128300
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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
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128282
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I’d met this crowd of drunken poets from San Francisco
Even though this was smack dab in the middle of winter
Smack dab in the middle of the flattened Illinois plains
Why they all left San Francisco I’ll never completely understand
But there we we
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