Most read stories

Atom

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Devour my horror, embrace it as yours

MUNDO MUERTE

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Meagan rides the subway with perfect lips and deep thoughts, looking moody out the smudged window like an actress in a Sofia Coppola film.

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

The Roses of Gettysburg

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Mothers and sons and war, an old story...

Perimeter and Paramour

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Jack and Jane went up the hill.Give us a drink, said Jack. Here go, said Jane. They watched a bit of the city below, the city that was lit up by soft electrical lights. What say tonight Jane? Why so quiet? Many spirits are out Jack. They are all around. …

Son

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Trenches coated with man-gruel laced the earth.

Lunch, daily.

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

Girl Running Up Cherry Street, Looking For the Past

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I know I was hungry, she says to herself, maybe. I was hungry for what you had to offer. Your fast car, your dad’s ski boat, your prettiness, your beautiful mouth, your eyes, and yes for the joy you could give me between the legs. B

Christmas Potluck

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"I see how little kids might find you creepy," she says between red velvet bites...

Always / Never

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"... A set of vertebrae disintegrate and a woman falls face first into her dinner plate."

Speculation on the Quantum Mechanism of Death

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With whatever else physicists may learn . . . perhaps they will begin to see that the connections between the physical world and non-physical domains of existence have an explanatory power which has only barely been considered.

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.

Snap, Crackle & Pop!

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snap

Gary

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Bipolar. Schizophrenic. Alcoholic. Addicted. Abused. A reader?

2 Haiku

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We’re heading to a Poetry reading when my wife Says “You owe me one” Coming back from the Poetry reading, my wife says “You owe me, big time”

Winter Queen

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Love is

noise

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I am naked in an upright glass box with water running through my hair and over my skin. I am in there when the old man who invited himself into our house for six long months (because no one had the nerve to tell him to leave) opens a door and stands…

Shenanigans 2 - Anticipation

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One Private View, four couples, not all of whom are adulterous.

The Body

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Well, it looks like I’ll be having a stem-cell transplant after all...

21

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The coach told the player, number 21, to stand in front of the net in order to distract the opposing team's goaltender and to block the view, to 'screen' him as it were. 21 did so, and did it well. There were defensemen that gave him much trouble by hitting his legs and…

Now

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

Butterfly Morning

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We woke up and we were whirlpools of spilt turquoise oil / with wings for flying

And then we... Part 2

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The way I figure it, mom wasn't worth a shit. I'd cry when she hit me but she'd just keep pounding. When I was seven, she burned a hole in my back. It happened one day at the fair. We were walking around. She didn't have any money so all we could do was walk. I had…

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

No Rocks On This End

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Take a flying leap?Mother would never agreeSo away from the campground we sneakTo show the boy where I was a boySummer day shirtless with swimsuits onOne hundred degrees walking through the treesThe season early with winter runoffWater here still seventy feet deepHoping the…

The Image is Exact in my Mind but the Frame Keeps Moving Around

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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

Excelsior - A poem in 9 parts (Post 5 of 5)

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VIII. Towards Affinities, Beyond My love, since I saw you last, since before we reached the chamber, I cannot count the quasars which have passed, but there still gleams Time, Like a memory of a lost event unwitnessed, and this illusion Carried…

My First Winter in Massachusetts

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My first winter in Massachusetts feels medieval: cold, dark, and endless.

Dear A. Lien

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Time is a form of sandwich. Each component of the sandwich is nestled between night and day, which enclose it like slices of bread. There are minutes, hours, and seconds. Seconds are tiny, like sesame seeds. Minutes are a little larger. Think of them as p

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