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!

too pissy for poetry

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

Some Kind of Compass

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if we stare into the dark long enough, we see ourselves at some end or beginning –

We Used To Be Sharks

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I was sitting on the therapist’s couch in someone else’s boxer shorts.

Your Hair, Your Weight

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“Your mother has problems,” he told the kids.

Fly the Friendly Skies

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Lucky bastard, he gets Glamour Puss and I get lady wrestler who's giving off the vibe she'll bludgeon me to death with her Bible if I make one false move.

2 Little Paragraphs About Writing

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I write in the morning when the world is bendy.

Riposi in Pace.

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It was too young to be love. We were 5, a buzz-cut me, and you, plated with babyteeth

The Light From A Sports Bar A Thousand Miles Away

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"Michael has had no drink, no cigarette, no illicit drug and very little illicit sex since September 14, 1989."

The Singular Exploits of Wonder Mom and Party Girl (Excerpt)

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“Can I?” Lily asked. I gave her a nod. She tore at the package with greedy fingers. As the paper fell away to reveal yet another self-help volume, Lily cocked her head in a gesture of confusion and curiosity. Following her gaze to the lipstick-red

The Philosophers' Problems

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The day the thinking factory imploded everyone for miles knew there was a problem. The sound of the walls crumbling in upon themselves was heard for miles, or perhaps it wasn't.

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.

Their Next

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The base of the monastery before him, he let her go into a warm updraft and she cascaded out and up, never falling as she rode the tiger into her next.

Everybody Needs a Soul

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They are running the bulls in Pamplona this afternoon and they have no idea how to do this and they are way too old for this and they want to relive their youth and run the bulls in Pamplona They want to drink like Ernest Hemingway and run

The Illusionist

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All week my crew and I waited for the snuff party. An obscure fete where someone gets killed strictly for the entertainment and viewing pleasure of others. Before you judge us know this, people die every day for no reason at all.

Oh, Danny Boy

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I wore a padded bra. Proud of my tits. D. ordered a Bloody May, I had a vodka tonic. After the second drink I slipped out into the fog, and smoked a little weed. I could see Long Island College Hospital across the street. To my right, the BQE rose up

Dancers: Summer '69

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The locals cut stone in quarries, built elevators at the Cummins plant in Columbus, or brewed shine back in the hills between Bean Blossom and Gnaw Bone.

Rose Petals

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A supermodel, carrying a large Valentine’s box, fell on the ice.

Go Yonder and Worship, part 1

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In the blue of the yard the twins boil and scrape, twisting about beneath the sycamore tree.

To My First Crush

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But I came back around, after Robert Kennedy got shot, with one hand up your skirt and the other on the gear shift...

Saint Fred Rogers

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I am remembering this day for all days. Remembering. All days. Always. This is the day you threw the TV out the upstairs window. I'm remembering. Always. This is the day that started with you shaking the toaster over me so all the crumbs fell out.…

Demolition Derby

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ornery women / in tall hats, suspender dads, kids deformed with / ribbons

Arcana Magi - c.10: To the Horizon

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“Stay there Alysia!” Brie said from behind as she ran toward them. The Sentinel used Alysia’s back as a step and launched herself into the air with Legacy over her head.

Stories from the War

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He didn’t know how to tell his story. It wasn’t an easy story to tell. There certainly was a clear beginning, but it didn’t make much sense to start at the beginning. There was no way to end the story either; the ending seemed to last forever.

This Is Why I Loved You

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Your opal eyesYour sea-blue eyesYour sky-blue eyesYour ice-blue eyesYour gray-blue eyes, your periwinklesYour hazel eyesYour violet eyes(almond-shaped and almost cubist)Your indigo eyesYour topaz eyes, your sunkissed lashesYour turtle-sundae eyes.I loved your black shiny…

The tuner

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yielding wood song

The Most Beautiful Truth

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I still believe in the very slim chanceI might say something luckyenough to reach your truest insides, your at homespirit, that you will hearand understand ascare on my part, evenif you can never quiteidentify me asits secret sender, that warm…

Ante Meridiem

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Still dipped in night...

You Can Remain Anonymous

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a poem about an abduction in my NYC neighborhood

King of the Mountain

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Daniel told himself to push. -- push harder than he'd ever pushed himself before. He reminded himself of what his father once told him: don't give in to pain. Be a real man. You can take it.