Most read stories

Wayfinding

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He chose her for the way she could, Eyes closed, nose to the air, Find her way North. North was where the wind stopped And held them in its grip, safe. Broken. He chose her for the way, fur against Her collar, she could coax seal…

Tiny Breaths

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Fire and ice undo me. I am born again, born again through the burning ice and biting flame. Listlessly floating cinder-like on lost cusps of wind that multiply with every with every single with every single breath. Spitfire grail and…

Luhvvz Lang-widge

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Th heeet frum mye skin on ers wus mehsidge eenuff.

The Wait

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Transhumanism has always had its malcontents usually derived from some philosophic contestation, but for all their thought experiments, somehow my present situation eluded them.

Village Life Brochure

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I live in a small fishing village where small people fish and others gossip or invent bizarre methods by which to irritate each other. During our weekly power cuts I go outside and cross the street, sitting on the pharmacy steps to watch myself not be at home in the…

Visions

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colors dancing on metric vectors

The Roses of Gettysburg

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

La lengua

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I have one, but I want another, A little greedy perhaps. She's my obsession, my indiscretion, My little judgment lapse.

Ink on Paper

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Waves like lovers gather and crest, crash into White uncertainty.

Simpler Disasters

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In the afternoon, there was a certain time when the sunlight spilled through the windows in the common room and made everything look all bright and fresh and optimistic. If you ignored the patients and doctors milling about and…

Nineteen in '72

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bursting girl there is no moon

Disappearing

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They say nothing, but instead watch the birds and people hovering. Every day is an echo of the one before, and the weight of waiting has begun to show itself in the stature of the tiny man and his little old wife. …

Dead Bird Uncovered by Spring

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Left by a melting snowbank: Cup lids, pine needles, a cairn of dog shit, And the grey soggy shape Of an eyeless winter bird. His breast is an old accordion Gone to rot in an old…

A Child is Born

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I came out of the Quick Stop and found her in the back seat of my ten-year-old Camry. I don’t know who she is, or why she chose my car. I do know she’s having a baby any minute now.

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.

Denouement

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No one has the right/ to script how someone dies.

Diana

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Dreams were all she ever had, all that ever comforted her. Diana. But then there was Rachel. And Diana forgot about her dreams, because there was nothing but Rachel. At first it was nothing but innocent phone calls, plans to meet up for coffee…

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.

fabulous birds

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Fabulous birds perched nearby, where we were. In their memory there goes the little god, original, in the midst of it all, happiness like anything near the river-mouth. Letting yourself dabble in the femaleness of it. In the lower world or on the playin

My First Winter in Massachusetts

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

Interlude: Beauty

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Musing on female beauty I came up with this: it makes my dick hard. And if that's a bit crude, well, hell, I'm dead. Want to sue me? Back when the clans were at one with the earth, circa goo-gobs of long years B.C., female beauty meant…

Dongs

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[YOU BETTER BE READY FOR THIS!]

The Ones Who Are Left Behind

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The women, I think, Handle it better than The men. The men just stare Straight ahead Vacantly Hollow-eyed Lonely. The women more Fulfilled by their lives, Having always Expressed their love. The men, Not so much. And find

At the Christmas Carol Bar

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I’ll take my Christmas carols neat-

Closed Letter to Management

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don’t ask me to set my goals./ I have none except safe air to breathe,/ a reliable roof,/ something aromatic in the oven.

how to live on coffee and prayers

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The coffee filter rustles like the Pages of your notebook, which Only tires you even more. Make your drink strong to Make up for the lack of resolve In your shoulders, and Your weak promises. The familiar sound of percolation And you reach the…

Evensong

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The way horizons disappear in the dark.

Tendrils

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you stand ashore

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

Buddies to the End

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“Tell me how sad they are.”