Most read stories

Your words.

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Your words are Ambien.

The Monster's Other Face

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The yellowed and peeling posters of men and women with grotesque disfigurements under the slogan, “Know Your Criminals!” that peered down at him from the walls were a familiar sight. Everyone knew that people with faces like that were as monstrous as they looked…

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That evening, my friend and I were at a McDonalds'. It was late in the evening, and we got together after she sent me a text message she meant to send to someone else. I got a burger. She got fries.

He's So Pretty I'd Dump My Boyfriend For Him

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I remember when we first met, telling my friends, He’s so pretty I’d dump my boyfriend for him. I remember driving all around Elmhurst looking for parking. We sat in the car eating figs and popcorn. We tried to throw the fig pits or stumps, or wh

Alex and Dee Dee

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I was going to write a love poemabout a man named Alex and agirl named Dee Dee, but I couldn'tremember them as well as I wanted. I knew about the time she painted theirnames on the overpassbut I have forgottenthings about them. I don't know what became of…

Cold, wet and dreary.

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Cold, wet and dreary.The three words that describe Belgium. A country that owns so little identity. Sure, there are the mussels, beer, wafels and chocolate ... But that's about as far as it goes. The lack of identity rules the country, grayness rules the horizon. And…

Confession

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As a boy Edward had stayed in the confessional several times in a row. The priest was drunk and couldn't tell it was the same kid over and over. The tiny door slid open…”Scobbity bobbity…tell me your sins…” Edward confessed what he thought were sins, then said…

My First Winter in Massachusetts

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

no one answered

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I knocked on all the windows, on all the doors. No one answered. The television was glowing. I went around behind your house and saw it through the curtains, blowing in. (I knew you were hurting.) Knocked and tried the sliding glass door, the flimsy scr

the wall

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Looking at an image of a graffiti on a wall on our computer screen we ask ourselves: what is the image's main graffiti-like property? We might answer: its location. But that is a contextual and political interpretation. There's nothing in that answer which addresses the…

In The Arms of Veronica

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Her smile was a cliff I stood on, trying to wrangle some kind of hope from the whites of her teeth. I heard the sound of the buzzer from the door on my ward. She stood there, a sickly ash tree, each limb flailing about like she was drowning in my sea of a

Joey's War

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Joey tried to shoot the cop with his air gun but the cop sprayed Joey with pepper spray.

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.

nightwatch

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Breaking the cat's cradled cord she examines her fingernails. She notices a crack in the paintwork, sighs to herself. Makes a mental note to cover it over. Cover it over, paint over the cracks. There's been a lot of that recently, hasn't there?

He Sure Can Play Piano with Those Giant Lobster Hands

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He sure can play piano With those giant lobster hands In his ratty raccoon coat And his old black cowboy hat His boots of Spanish leather And face like sultry weather His raspy croaking voice Picking out the words so choice They reall

Enigmas

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Fish don't walk.

Professional Judgment

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Biting my tongue instead of lashing red stripes

far outside

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I'm staying in swinging all night Hell not just all night but every night I can possibly sink my teeth into

I Can Sing Like That

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Here lately Daddy's been talking bout' filling momma full of holes. Not like he would do it cause' he likes talkin' just to hear the words come out even if they don't mean anything to anyone but him. But just to be on the safe side I went and hid them shells cause' he's got…

The Heart

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Oh, I cant stop singingThis human heart beatingWhat people say do not interest meAs much what goes on in their heartsThe heart is were they are really atNo matter what they saySome call it the IdSome call it the subconscious Some call in the willSome call it the…

running naked through your dreams

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How can you stop a man from running naked through your dreams? I want to know. This ought to be taught, somewhere. In schools, or somewhere. I could never stop you from doing what you wanted with me, and didn’t want to either. You had complete leave of

luncheon on the grass

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I had a dream, I remember, where I am in this painting, Luncheon on the Grass. My dress was thrown off and the picnic basket, filled with bread and fruit, is spilled out upon it, and I am sitting nude on my underclothing, with two gentlemen fully dresse

Poetry & Poets

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“I’ve read your blog recently,” my friend told me over waffles and cold potato salad at 10PM, “and something strange is going on in there.”

Unintentional Hermits/ Animal Cities- Melancholy

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He marvelled at himself. How his decision and the consequential action, could free him up, make him almost jolly, almost well. He didn't give a fig for his lack of money and inability to pay his rent, he didn't care anymore that he was no longer inspired

Spliced from the scraps on the cutting room floor by a young intern from UC Berkeley while Brando studied her profile in 1959

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Bogart frowned, said, "How do you do that?"

Will I Eventually Be Everybody?

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A jump, a fall, that's how it begins. I don't know much about living but dying I should have down to a science, if practice makes perfect. Death by burning as a withc (often) a warlock (not so much) a heretic (quite a bit, you'd be surprised--though, if you…

Hollywood A Go Go

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I wonder what strange and marvelous events would ensue if God decided to build another universe and went to Home Depot for supplies.

roses, a dozen

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I know I shouldn’t brag, but you bought me roses, a dozen. I felt I could balance anywhere, when I was with you. I could achieve poise on the head of a pin. There was no need to hide anything, and I heard night music wherever we went. I sat with lovers,

After coming back from nowhere,

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you notice some of what you need― a pressure of something you've intended, somewhere without a place,

Valentine query

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Did I flirt first?