Most read stories

Two or Three Late Encounters with Empiricism

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Schrödinger did not keep cats about just by accident, and were they keeping an eye on him!

Throwing Pencils

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I can never tell if he’s drunk or using some sort of substance or if perhaps his brain just doesn’t fire at the pace that we have come to accept as normal.

Somewhere

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...but still, when she whispers that going out now might put her in the mood later he unties from his mooring and sets them both drifting toward the gin-splintered latitudes

kroy hearts destiny

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r luv iz gud enuf 4 a tat2

Four Noble Lies

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When Carlotta left me, I cried / into my soup. I shriveled into / harsh mathematics.

Vague Obscenities

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The next day on YouTube, 3,558,019 users watched the clip of Kate dangling next to Jay Leno's chin.

Blue Jeans and Black Leather

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I lock the last of the beer and wine doors and head back to the cash register. Our clocks are not on bar time so I only have a few minutes. I check the till. A stack of ones and three fives. Enough to break a twenty, but looking bare. The parking lot's empty. The air…

Buster Keaton

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I passed Buster Keaton on the way to work this morning. He was standing, hands in pockets, at the corner of Riverview and Keil. It was the young Buster, handsome and still strong enough to pin down the scars that marked his childhood. This was the Buster

I Confess to God in the Shower

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During fifth grade, I was called / closeted queer and tall faggot.

Five Ways to Say “F*ck Off!” In Our Post-Modern Era

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“Honey, honey.” He tried to take her hand but she pulled away. “This is about the cup. Don't make it about us.”

Rain

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Serial Killer

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Once Mom finally came to terms with the fact that my brother was gay, she became convinced he was a serial killer. “He has all the signs,” she told me as she trimmed my hair. “Signs?” I asked, watching her in the…

The Lovers

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I HAVE NOTHING MORE TO SAY TO YOU, she lisps, and, with this, the fissure in the man’s head reaches the bottom of his chin and the hollow head splits in two.

10 Unofficial Jobs Jake Baker has Never Got Paid For

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Not that their pa really needs the suitcase; he's been coming and going for so long it doesn't matter. The suitcase's just for show. A final goodbye.

Stand Up

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"And you’ll forgive my sayin’, your Maggie’s in heat, and if ya want to keep her you’re gonna ‘ave to fight. To be sure after this they’ll leave ya alone.”

Shine

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I was afraid of needles and ponds of water and I was transfixed by both.

Emoji Problems

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Our problems started with a few back and forth texts of emojis late one night. The next evening, a Friday, typically my poker night with the guys, my girlfriend came to the door.“You brought over pizza, how nice,” I said. “And, oh, gosh, look at that, a…

You Can Remain Anonymous

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a poem about an abduction in my NYC neighborhood

Arcana Magi Cross - c.1

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Ai picked up the ball and noticed the feathers. Wings unfurled and the head looked up. Staring deep into the bird’s eyes, Ai could have sworn she saw flames.

Cinderella's Lament

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My name is Wanda McClure and I lived in the foothills of Eastern Kentucky. A small town miles off the interchange, and mostly in the middle of nowhere. I lived in a trailer. I was 52 years old.

See Jane

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Jane watched her mother remove her wedding ring with butter.

BLACKHORSE

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All the neighborhood kids waited for the school bus on a small cement slab at the bottom of the first big hill on Blackhorse Road. My mother made me scrambled egg sandwiches on wheat toast every morning for breakfast before I left for school. Then one mor

I'd Be Happy To Date You When Hell Freezes Over -- One Single Librarian's Collection Of Online Dating Profile Turnoffs

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Dude -- I DON'T want to date your boat!

Postcard

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A tiny story, 55 words, just enough to fit on a . . .

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.2 - c.2

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Azure leaned on the wall outside the gymnasium. She pulled back the sleeve of her blouse and saw the shackle glow. Azure realized that her feet dragged across the ground, leaving behind straight-line grooves on the grass beside the sidewalk.

Re: “oo===D---o-}-<,” Fiction Submission

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Fake letter, 55 words.

An Argonaut Ethos

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My daddy made all these gold records on the walls, died, and left me to run BadSmack Media, even if I could only manage to run it aground.

too pissy for poetry

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feeling obligated to write/ is like feeling/ obligated to fuck.

The Piss-Colored Man

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His open door was interpreted by the neighbor as an invitation to all but place a mirror under his nose. She demanded opportunities to fluff his pillows and coerced him into accepting gifts of food, more than he could possibly eat, and sometimes ate with

compass/ion

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a question that (never) left