Most read stories

Farm

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untilled, weedy, left to rest

Hive

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Each brief life is lived in dedication// to the honeyed buzz of the colony,

Pink Slip For Mitt's Mutt

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(Recently unearthed from a “Lost Luggage” travel trunk abandoned in a train station in Salt Lake City, Utah) Dear Seamus: Boy, we sure did enjoy having you as a member of our family all those years. I would have to say you…

End of Wendell

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...though in reality it is a dirty white with brown splotches now appears to him as a fluorescent green garden snake.

The Prom Queen and the Quarterback

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Friday night, a bar downtown, beneath the swirling dots of disco lights, seated at a table by the door, I come across a Cheerleader from my high school days, having a Martini with the Quarterback she married. Even in forgiving light, …

Saint Christopher Phone Booth Blues

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I've got to stop it. This can't go on. I've got stop yelling at people. Dog people. What's up with dogs of a sudden? Why does everyone suddenly seem to have a dog? I like dogs. Don't get me wrong. It's unleashed dogs that make me go ballistic. One reason is because …

WE SHOULDN'T HAVE BOUGHT THE FIREWORKS

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My chin is half-eaten. My chest is gone. There is a rhythm to how each flame licks me. Like how you used to in the mornings before work. Before the coffee. Before the toaster. Before a rose clenched between your teeth and dancing.

Listen to the Wind

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Long ago, when I was a child, like you, my grandfather told me about the wind. He pointed to a willow whose branches were dancing in the breeze and asked me what I heard. “Just the wind,” I answered. He smiled and ran his hand acr

Jacob Ellis

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My name is Jacob Ellis. I was thinking about school and all those years and years and how they go eventually away but always remain somewhere in the mind as if imprinted on an akashic record. I was dizzy there, dizzy with dread and always on the verge of falling.…

That Old-Time Religion

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The road to heaven is littered for miles with dead sinners, or more precisely, the sides of the roads are lined with crosses on which the sinners are nailed. It has always been so, since time started ticking for Civilized…

women in labor

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I am like a spice in wind, warm and gentle on the face, a reminder of your youth, tried and true. Lick the trapped silk from my soul, is all I am saying, with your high language. Get the core out of me and turn it under your tongue. Why shouldn't the egg

Tell Me What Happened

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The empty faces in the crowd all mumbled...

Five Million Yen: Chapter 42

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We had sex, but hadn’t established a strong relationship. We liked each other as more than friends, but I was worried that Claudia was acting as a honey trap and spying on me for Dan Arris.

(melody) floating inside an f

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Like the miserable sledgehammer am I, with no adjective in place to praise your moon, you are a hole well-worn into my favorite hanging rock. I've only been able to reinvent this wronged language, in which being moved…

Second Steps

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The train station offers a pleasant atmosphere, though it exists as an in between place. People only come here to go somewhere else.

The Empty Stool

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I walked up to the bar and sat down on the empty stool.“You don't want to sit there,” said the bartender.“Oh? Why not?” I replied.“It's haunted.”I laughed, but then stopped when I saw he was not laughing with me.“You're…

an exhibit of nature

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I’ll widen a wing out of myself, if you want. I’ll wash out the more volatile salts of man’s innate salt. I’ll awaken the milky sense the night sky’s made of, under Van Gogh’s heaven. Use the same salt wind sailing over all origin, the rim of the cup an

Puke

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What the fuck is that smell? Puke? Pine-Sol? Oh shit!Back seat of a cop car.Again?What is it this time?“Excuse me, officer? Where the fuck are my clothes?”

Hands

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the moment he started walking my hands were given new tasks to do:

Chinese farmer gets life in prison for evading highway tolls

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Bring me your poor, your tired, your hungry anyone skilled at evading highway tolls Bring me your escape artists dangling upside down in a straight-jacket from the sides of tall buildings Don’t let them starve in the prisons of the world Bri

Four Haikus

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The crow in darkness;visual palpitationsunder the street lamp. In the dark morningmy car disrupts the still cold;a blister on earth.Never mind the cat.The Japanese Peace Lillywill steal your last breath.The blacktop highway;a rough scab to cover thedeep man-cut…

Terror Management Theory: The Joy Knee

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I could reach out and grab this world by the p...

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 29

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The funk of wet wool, stinky feet, reeking armpits, stale beer and fried food created a bohemian fetor.

So, Good

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It’s good to get fucked in the rain. It’s good to get fucked in the back seat of a power boat on a river in the hot summer air with the mosquitos sucking the life out of you. It’s good to get fucked with your bare back rubbing up against the rough bar

Sack

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He cut a hole in the sack

Bottles of Happiness

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She sold bottles of happiness at the marketplace. She woke up at dawn every morning to capture rays of happiness in the air. She would jump and let her fingers thread through each ray before sorting them into bottles. She always added a red ribbon to the tops of each…

Pointing Fingers.

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She burns her wrists with menthols; she says it's too much effort to cut them. Besides, it's more fun.

A Pantry of Unusual Sounds

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The cabinets in D’s kitchen are a pantry of unusual sounds. It is where they are stored.

Uncertainty Principle

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Aleister Crowley walks in and all of a sudden the bar's filled with angels and demons and pagan things. Wood nymphs and stuff like that. Wittgenstein, to his credit, keeps cool. He just stands over there next to the dart machine, pointing at things and naming them. Like…

My Darling Dead Ones

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Do you remember?