Most read stories

Let's Start with the End

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Let’s start with the end—death. Upbeat, huh?

Beige

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She bought a lamp that looked like a woman's leg in a fishnet stocking, you know the one, to provide warm, yellow light under her desk.

Three Things Not to Think About

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Wait until you are home alone at last. Put the dog outside. Close the cat in the room down the hall, where you can't hear her mew to be let out. Turn off the television. Switch off any devices playing music. Take the phone off the hook. Turn your cell ph

Let it Rage Until

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Let it rage. I shall not suppress you. Let your rage speak to you of the sorrow it hides, until your sadness swallows you whole.

World

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Making me hate language

walks from to walks to

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hands slide into gloves unseen / eyes disappear behind glass / the crank turns the flywheel spins: / every octave has droppt low / sub-sonic shudders within—

Repetitions

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The couple sit at an outside table at McDonalds.

This is the Best Poem You'll Ever Read

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This is the best excerpt you'll ever read.

Xmas Story

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The conspicuous police car was conspicuously just ahead.

Bowling

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I had a dream about being in a vintage alley that had bowling balls with adjustable relations to gravity

among American gods

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in dark recesses of this morgue of earth / where beauty of the good does not compel, / where evil's horrors seldom do repel— / Americ gods reign o'er from birth to birth.

Flesh Alive

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Rise up, carcass—march! / Naught is new beneath the jaundiced sun: / last of the last of Louis' gold, / light is sliced through clean / beneath flecks and films of time.

My Grief, All Mine

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Your brain was connected to your feet ...

Off The Cuff

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Sometimes words are carved in stone, but you won't find these in this poem

Barely Spring

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On a business road

That's All Right

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People are yelling for Little Elvis

Meeting A Praying Mantis

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A Praying Mantis clover to bright emerald green landed on my sleeve and lingered as I worked in my hay field.

Ron Vara speaks out at last.

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He’s an empty sock

Leftover Author's Notes

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#281: If you make it to the end on this one, I'll send you $1,000 in cash and a bag of apples. Your choices are Granny Smith and Fuji. I can also pay you in euros if that helps.

Tales Told near Tsmebrovht-5

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“—but although we've catalogued instances of this on other planets, it seems never to've led to the global outbreak of psycho-phrenias and neuro-pathologies as those that plagued the Tiānxiàns!”

Prayers and Plastic Wrap

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The effort involved in making my chocolate chip cookies, do you know? They're not easy. No. Not easy.

We Poor Splendid to Look On

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Leave us to hide our sundials in our caves— / discard our scrolls that guide no more, / to time our nights to learn if we can grieve / —we’ve too much noise or less than we can hear . . .

The Third Time my Father Tried to Kill Me

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They sang and clapped and stomped shod feet on hardwood floor, the smell of man sweat and bomb-making thick as perfume.

Christian Bell vs. Sleep

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Christian Bell can’t sleep in/on the following: airplanes, car trips, couches, first nights in hotels, jury duty holding area, commuter train, work breakroom, tent, park bench, the ground.

Passing A Kidney Stone In The Twilight Zone

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A few weeks ago I was sitting at my desk when I began feeling a sharp pain in the area of ​​my back just above the hip. I got down on the floor and lied on my side to alleviate the pain however I could. It lasted about ten minutes and slowly dissipated. Is this a kidney…

Through a Sudden Window

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There is someone looking for youfor himself or her. I don't know if they'll keep on looking forever when we live our present lives so far apart from each other. You might as well be behind a glass at all times. But I still would want that lucky…

The Full Treatment

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She rolled onto her back and spread her hind legs. Her lewd poses were fine on a fat cat, but as I rubbed her belly I wondered if that’s what might have gotten her into trouble as a human. I tried to reassure myself that her indiscretions weren’t my fault

A Little *PSYCHOTIC* —

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[um ... "howza 'bout another piece of, chocolate CAKE ... ?? #tammyBAKER #tammyBAKER #AYE #AYE ]

Living In A Novel

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I walked into a novel and sat down on a rock. The language was distressed and full of cyclones and swells. I could smell embalming fluid and folklore. Everywhere I went there were doorknobs, escalators, and clocks. Objects of all genre overflowing with prose. I stood at …

Unconditional Unbroken

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It's house has seen every day and every night From its windows stars are born and die