Most read stories

You leave me

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laying with you, thinking with you, breathing with you

The End

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"Tell me what you remember."

The poplar

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Sometimes we hurt ourselves, we scratch ourselves, we bleed — for a simple joy... All I wanted to do was to find the poplar again — the tree of my young arms, of my budding breasts. My fingers used to circle around its bold and vigorous waist, but in the…

The Despotic Elephant

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An elephant with fascist tendencies,And various exotic dependancies,Kept his eye on,That there King Lion,Frustrated by his monarchic propensities.He made plans to over-throw,Thinking the Lion's popularity low,But he was discovered,When his habits were uncovered,Which was…

Bob the Builder

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The concrete guy’s truck is parked in front of your house. There’s nothing for him to be doing there except your wife.

God Works Out of A Home Office

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with binoculars neighbor reads screen text:

The End of History

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Well, I walked in on you, then you walked out on me And that was when it happened – the end of history And that should have been sufficient But I think you know it wasn’t I remember it was you who told me Dreams are only efficient when illusio

It Can Hold Us All

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Look out for rotten ice. If you fall in, pull yourself out like a seal. Take off all your clothes and get to shelter.

Terror Management Theory: The Joy Knee

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

Vanity Among Pigeons

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About four in the afternoon a pigeon began admiring itself in the shiny panel of a car door until another pigeon came along and it quit acting foolish.

A salute to Poetry Month last and a hello to May

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Fleeting moments of tension free, Sensory glimpses of how it could be, A sweet easy rhythm in synchrony Is how it seems for you, too, to me. There's nothing really but memory, Yet promise of something's The world I see.

Discards

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Church-lady dresses with matching jackets

Black Wheat, 7

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They use people then throw them away They are after the image There is a desperation in (it) They behave as if they must have it It must be a drug to them Are they that able? . . . They bring it over here and then all they want is im

Resurrection

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The superhero is out there in the fields, discovering herself.

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…

The Summer They Walked On the Moon

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That summer I fucked Kathi R. from Wheaton, as much as I could. She called me Professor Obsessor. She was short and practically without tits, but must have had the longest arms, because she could somehow reach down around my ass while I was on top and she

Life As a Beach

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Life is a beach, not an enormous ashtry.

I spend my free time writing epitaphs

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I invented a game called Church & State

Crack

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It's the kind of neighborhood where the bar above the hot dog stand functions as a drug warehouse. Lowest prices, biggest selection, friendliest — highest — associates. I live here, a block over in the midst of sushi joints and frat boys, but I live…

Apollo (1/2 - sections 1 and 2)

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Apollo …

The First Time. Maybe Our Second or Third

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She sat me down naked on a kitchen chair and fucked me in the dining room, hovering over me, then sitting down on top of me I was upstanding It was outstanding, raw, and exciting No children or adults around, or dogs, cats or birds, no goldf

Proceed here to read some of my work

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http://jrleyvas.net

The Band That Didn't Memorize Christmas Songs

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A man stared out a window, only to see a passing train.

A glimpse of death

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It all had to begin somewhere; some moment of time and space which arose in perfection- and dissolved into the now. It was a beginning he couldn't quite remember, couldn't grasp onto- it simply sifted through his fingers, sand floating away with the wind. That's not to say…

The Last Thing

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The last thing I remember is falling below the water, lungs filling with liquid.

Futurist

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What will become/ of the resource-sucking poor

Agrarian Joys of Ornamental Lawns

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The leaves/ that clung through February/ fall, dung brown,

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.

Good (Enough)

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Maybe I am good

Why I Write- Item Seventeen

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I feel I am, in fact,/ the dimmest and least wise/ man on earth.