Most read stories

Kitchen Consciousness

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she's bent over and reaching into the oven to pour fat over a chicken. I just want to tug those pants down and thrust.

the sweet lunar springs

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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

gravelortian part 2

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"you have plastic in you"

Meet Robert Grady

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Robert had chopped his hair and grown a soul patch since I'd last seen him. He was tanned, the hair on the top of his head was spiked, and some gray specks were creeping in on the hair on the side of his head. Had…

Eating Crow

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I stabbed a man at the Blue-Buick Bar and Grill. This may not be shocking news, all things considered. The man I stabbed didn't think it was all that shocking, even while it was happening. I'd had a lot of those energy drinks -- six or seven -- even before I'd puked…

pockets

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That place was on a summit and hardly anything grew there and it wasn't for lack of turning over the earth or tending the loam and it wasn't either for lack of sun because the violent storms had felled anything that could block the light years and even decades before. On…

Jurassic World: Aftermath

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The world had gathered to hear about how the world’s most expensive and scientifically advanced theme park had turned into one of the largest crime scenes, and nightmares, of the modern age.

Practicing Angel - song

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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

Wet Moses Cement

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If you’re trying to carve wise sayings for eternity to read in a newly poured sidewalk you don’t want to be struggling for meaning while the cement is wet.

Ace Reporter

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God, how I smite them.

The Fourth Prague Defenestration: 2

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“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

The Last Remaining

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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.”

Go Where It Takes You

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Neil Young told me, “Artistry is like waves. You’re in a trough and everybody thinks you’re gone and then you come to the top of a wave and everybody says, hey, where’d you come from? We thought you were gone.”

Love, your daughter

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You gave me all of the power, and none of the power.

On Fox River

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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

cities like sepia and the second half of the dusk

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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…

A Day in the Life of a Public Transit Mime

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We got a lotta people ruinin' the public transit experience. Talkin' loud on cell phones, clippin' fingernails, even flossing their teeth.

Spiritual Awareness

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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.

Poppy Birds

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Addictive plants... attractive dancing...

The Problem With Oils

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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.

Years of Co-Dependency

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The next thing I knew, the waiter was pouring wine into all our glasses. “How did you know we needed more wine?” I asked. His face grew red as he smiled, “Many years of co-dependency, honey.”

Original Sin

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The sirens didn’t eat the sailors

Your party invitation just arrived (guest poem by Carolyn Martin)

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"I’d rather move a word around a page than raise a glass or pass a plate or work a room immune to poetry."

Pleasure Your Woman the Papal Appliance Way

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It shows how ignorant your typical writer for a men's magazine read primarily by teenage boys can be. You must treat every woman as if she is a customer at a major appliance store.

Sunlight Falling Directly On Her Body

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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

Playing Pretend

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“Can I get apple juice and milk?” “Yes.” “And a chocolate shake?” “Will you finish all that and your food?” “Probably not.” “Still yes. Get whatever you want.” The waitress took the order. Along…

Song

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I felt I should write a song To tell you what you meant to me Something I needed to find inside That surprised even me I was blinded by myself And couldn’t see that well What did I do to deserve you? I never knew I’d been through h

and they are really living!

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These people, what is it with them? Is this who we’ve become? They left their great need behind when they were taken out of the country. They seem to live without thought of that blood. They do not respond to anything that calls to it. They seem sha

Abstractions

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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…

This Is Really Living, She Said

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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