Most read stories

Mercury Unbound

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~!~

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.

Spices

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In the tang of winter warm and summer cool,

Love Letter From a Content Writer

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This was supposed to be a love letter written by a content writer, then it just got weird.

AFTER

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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

One Amber Down, Two to Go

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I am brave, I am sexy, I am strong

To Walk Backwards

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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

Tutorial Frustration

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Incorrigible swine,

Of the FTC and the Human Condition

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Humanity comes without a choice

Son

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Trenches coated with man-gruel laced the earth.

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.

The Widow

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When the village slept, the men came knocking.

Layover

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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…

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."

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.

Snap, Crackle & Pop!

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snap

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

Hospice Valediction

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youthful pin oaks grant solemn attention to the aluminum gurney

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

Waiting for Lunch

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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.

The Blood and the Bulb

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I had laid my hand down hard upon a long forgotten shard of an old coke bottle. The cut is deep.

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.

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.

Letter

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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…

The Seer

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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

FULL NEST

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

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

My Old Man, Across a Hotel Pool in the Bahamas

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Three guys playing “Cocoanut water, rum and gin” on steel drums, guitar and trap set outside on the deck by the pool.

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…