Most read stories

One Amber Down, Two to Go

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I am brave, I am sexy, I am strong

the trenchant lad & the mechanical men

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A man walks on the moon my mother knew at Purdue.

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

stop bullying racists

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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.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 22

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-Looks like you could use some light, Austerlitz, said one of the men in a heavy Russian accent, or perhaps you prefer the dark?

Don't Let Bears Give You a Headache

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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.

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…

Here, You Are Alive

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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

We the Wild Men

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There's a whole pack of us, men minted from hot brass and thumbtacks. Too tough for sensibility's sake.

Mercury Unbound

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~!~

Why I Gave Up on Math and Began My Big Fat Writing Career

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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

Lunch, daily.

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She’s not settling. She can learn to like this.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 38

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Inspector Paumé hung up the telephone. He looked at Dan Arris, who was staring out the window, shook his head and walked into the bathroom one more time to gaze upon the naked dead body of Claudia Monschaud.

Deep Pond

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It wasn't the sun sparkling Or the dog of the neighbor Barking.

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

Now

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I'm looking for the perfect/passage, a safe, sound/jettison to now.

FULL NEST

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Every time I look at you there are two dumb mouths that slip between stretch marks.

Pension Plan

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Let's put a cork in this drain.

Unconfirmed Revelation Vouchsafed by Paris

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Poets die every day but are seldom in position to put the experience to literary merit.

A Night of Furversion

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Another subject of interest is "furverts"--"individuals who engage in sexual activity while dressed in animal costumes."

THE PERFECT KIND OF HAPPY

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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.

My Fuji Red Banannanana

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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…

Swimming Lessons

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He came up from under the water and looked at us. I asked, Whatcha doin' here? Then he said he was going for a swim because the water was warm. Mickey and I looked at each other. He is going for a swim because the water is warm, I told Mickey. Then his…

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

Son

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Trenches coated with man-gruel laced the earth.

Her Sunday Story

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She turned on the television. The newscaster was her husband. She changed the channel. Her husband interviewing her husband. She changed the channel. A baseball game. Her husband pitched to her husband who popped a fly ball which was caught by her husband

Good for the Gander

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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.

from insomnia

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soap smells tangy, but/I wouldn’t eat it: scent and/nutrition diverge.

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,

Crosswords

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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…