Most read stories

Real As Your Underwear

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when unicorns took to flight / the poles shifted / the world flooded / and Pangaea busted open like calloused palm

The Last 3,600 Seconds

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I can feel everything getting closer, the past catching up. All the cunts and cocks and clits I've ever touched. I left them all on the other side of the world, and now they're creeping back to me.

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

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Fake letter, 55 words.

Soon, and for the Rest of Your Life

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. . . and the last thing you’ll smell will be new-cut pine.

Ante Meridiem

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Still dipped in night...

Time to Rest

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the mighty mountains sighed, and the wide seas heaved

Decrucifixion

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"Isn't it time to remove the nails, and put Jesus to rest once and for all," Mary asks.

Frozen Chicken

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One of the pieces, I noticed, had the real shape of a miniature chicken, its mohawk, pin legs, and small definition of wing. “Look at that,” I said to my friend. And just then, the wing twitched.

Rose Petals

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

Shine

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

Reverie

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There is a tall and leafy tree in our backyard. Also a bride, a groom, and a chicken.

Naked (a translation)

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His body echoed in the mirror/ cracked into distant images

Augustinian Prayer Sonnet

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He kissed her tits and thought of art

Grandma

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It was a subtle change. Jeffrey's grandmother was never graceful. Her figure was like a garbage bag filled with rounded masses of leaves and the unexpected angle of the odd stick, the entire shambling affair draped in soiled and yellowed hand-knit clothing…

Animus and Vitriol

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At some point, we will have to shoot them/ through the eyes and skull and heart

Haze

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I slide my hand under the sheets. It’s cool there. An impression. This is where she would be.

April 2nd: National Have Sex With An Ugly Person Day

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Let's be honest. Ugly people have an uphill battle in this culture. From the time they slide out of their ugly mothers they stand at the plate with two strikes.

Italy, 1990

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She...learned the ways of men, especially foreign men, who eyed her mother even as they passed around pictures of their children, wallet-bound photographs that included their reluctantly smiling wives.

to day

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I turn my head. Time starts running.

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.

Michael & The Reaper

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That sound. Bone against bone. Skin across skin. Blood fraying into the unknown dark. He loved that sound.

French Fries

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Tuesdays she worked afternoons at the bookstore, and he’d secretly go, buy a large order, sit in a corner with a newspaper. Fries covered in vinegar, veins of ketchup.

Broken Bulbs - Chapter One

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And here I am again. I chew my nails. I tap my foot. I chew my nails. I sweat. I bleed. My nose bleeds. It drips. I drip. I'm dripping through my chair.

Dinner at La Maison Bouche

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The knife that precedes the bigger knife that precedes the spoon that precedes the flat fork, with stuff like that I'm all butterfingers, & even though he's never been to Italy except once to shoot a gun when the world was a great big jumble, he remembers all…

On Writing about Velveeta

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You are fishing in a coffee cup. (Your fishing pole is a record player.)

My Digital Garden

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This part of her digital garden is not impressive, slightly sloppy, even haphazard. However, her avatar is an attractive woman with good make-up.

Autumn Offering

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You may gather from me the spring of my youth

Fiction with Teratoma Preserves

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In Nebraska, we found a dead man lying between the furrows of a field. He’d been there awhile in the heat and the sun, the only shade provided by a cloud of flies. The dead man lay on the ground, decaying, disappearing into the dirt:

Some Kind of Compass

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

Letter to Neruda

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You have been my woman’s lover now for seven years, ever since your two souls met at La Isla Negra.