Most read stories

The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

916916 views44 comments44 favs

Now your dreams are headed for the Rhyme or Reason Convention where they try to convince you you can do this Trying to make sense of everything

gravelortian part 2

916916 views22 comments11 fav

"you have plastic in you"

gravelortian part 8

916916 views00 comments00 favs

When I come to we are by the lake

This Is Really Living, She Said

916916 views22 comments11 fav

She bought herself her own apartment That was when she told me I have a hard time getting out Unless it’s really important like work I told myself wake up early Get some coffee, but I oversleep I had a massage therapist come to my house

Original Sin

915915 views1212 comments99 favs

The sirens didn’t eat the sailors

Wild Oats v. Shredded Wheat

915915 views22 comments33 favs

Written across an old geezer’s sweatshirt At the Farmer’s Market in L.A.

song of the love atheist

915915 views11 comment11 fav

"chemical", love is/as long as saccharine is/served in coffees sweet . . .

and dark blood flowed out of our youth

915915 views00 comments00 favs

I remember this shot taken of you in a bright blue summer dress, with your arms spread out, leaning against a wood fence near the beach, or by Lincoln Park maybe, your thin body leaning back and long blonde hair down bare arms. Other men will remember h

cities like sepia and the second half of the dusk

915915 views00 comments00 favs

The source of things has broken open and that is why everything is around and about. I keep trying to tell you that but you don't believe it. No worries. If you are self-actualized and going in a routine, well, such is well enough. But I am telling you that I…

The Thank You Parade

915915 views44 comments33 favs

Let's go now with those precisely marching shiny cloud band members, so eagerly clanging their golden sleeves togetherover there in the valley of new light, for instance. They can lift wholeoceans up, like baby children, for a seriesof smooches, all of…

Things You Should Know, By Heart, If You Must

915915 views44 comments33 favs

The light is always on in reality The Gelatinous Mass is not something made up By the Catholic Church And even though a small deer may have come to the side of the road once To lick the salt from your wounds There will definitely be cheap fish

Abstractions

915915 views00 comments00 favs

Sleeping at home gives an inkling's idea,of absent last abstractions. Muses surf unknown unknowns, through keyways of sidewalk approaches.And manifold techniques frame afoul light's fated But ultimate demise.When once of…

Soft Serve

914914 views22 comments22 favs

Smooth slope-topped plateaus Turn liquid as latex, With ridgelines of pearls That separate and run At the rigidly textured Patterned wafercone. Edible scepter, Its liquefying cap Is strictly temporary And mostly…

Bum on a Stoop in Paris with a Bald Head in the Rain

914914 views44 comments11 fav

Bum on a Parisian stoop begging with his big Jackson Pollack bare head in the rain The water running in streaks all over his brain Reminding him of a painting He once thought of Keep going, you’re coming back again. Get out of the car wrec

beginning

914914 views1515 comments88 favs

time lost in darkness

Bat (n.)

914914 views44 comments44 favs

Flying mammal with thin membrane forelimb adaptive wings. Amazing number of species from fruit-eating to insectivores. All capable of landing in your hair at night.

Sunlight Falling Directly On Her Body

914914 views22 comments22 favs

The fine blond hairs lift slightly along the skin of your arms As you nod, listening to him. The veins On your arms standing up as well I was caught in an off moment because of your skin Because of the way moisture beads up on it The youthful fi

Friend of Man

914914 views1818 comments00 favs

I don’t read. I don’t do the dishes. What am I? If I were more domesticated, I’d poop in the street. I’d lift my leg and pee on the bushes. I would chase after every ass in the hood and sniff them too. I wouldn’t fetch much. What am I? Wha

The Problem With Oils

914914 views11 comment00 favs

If you were a painter, and I a poet, we could have conversations about Picasso and Bukowski, and how neither one took a sober breath.

Longing of the Broken-Hearted

914914 views44 comments22 favs

I remember sitting on the screened-in front porch of my house on Illinois Street that summer that we met. I had just come up from school at downstate Illinois. I remember eating a peach and listening to the sounds in my neighborhood, just listening. The

The Last Remaining

914914 views11 comment11 fav

Barry Gibb, the last remaining brother of the trio to make up the once popular disco band, the Bee Gees, comes out for his encore, to sing a cappella, “Stayin' Alive.”

the sweet lunar springs

913913 views00 comments00 favs

Check the sweet lunar springs that we are still bathing in. The swelling in the genitals there. Check to make sure we are ripe, and in season. It’s our way of being willing, strong under the sweet icy waters, with that fertility that is derived from you

A Cuppa

913913 views88 comments55 favs

David: Glad you made it. It’s been ages since we've had a cuppa.

Practicing Angel - song

913913 views33 comments11 fav

I thought I saw you once When you were still quite young Surveying great beauty Like a rain shower in the sun And I can still hear them nearby Those sharp voices of our youth Shouting with pleasure in the fields While looking at the sky

Boring Boy

913913 views55 comments11 fav

Deslauriers taught that of the five derogatory items a girl could be—bitch, slut, tease, frigid, whore—tease was the worst. Having a German Shepherd at home protected Liz. My family had a cat, female and black.

Brewing

913913 views00 comments00 favs

...classic rock vibrating the walls...

The Fourth Prague Defenestration: 2

913913 views11 comment11 fav

“How did you come by a name like Vladimir?” I asked the toilet guard. “Sounds Russian.” “My mother’s Russian. You got something against Russian?” “No kidding?” “Real KGB,” he said. “She was in it when they arrest my father. Only way he survive

Spiritual Awareness

913913 views22 comments11 fav

Amir was a ghost, and he was terrible at it. No one had taught him how to be a ghost. There was no orientation, no welcome packet, no handbook. Ghosts started in limbo with only a name, and nothing else.

On Fox River

913913 views33 comments33 favs

We were at Fox River and I was in the dark water, swimming naked beside Rick DeMille, with my light skin glowing as we swam up behind you and Sharon in your dad’s ski boat sitting silent in the water. And I could hear her whimpering, “Oh, Jesus!” when

Pirate

913913 views22 comments00 favs

“So, I’m watching the feed from Garowe and, by Allah, there’s a picture of Mohamed Guled, I can’t believe it, with a rocket launcher.