Most read stories

Waiting for His Wife

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"Dad, I already told you about your wife. She’s not coming."

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.2 - c.1

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No matter the guidance and support she received from her parents, her psychiatrist, and her friend; no matter how hard they tried to remind her of her humanity, Azure believes this chimera form is her true body now.

Why Mr. Doss Had To Die

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He held my little hand in his and guided it through the dirt.

New Carpet

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How curious that the thought arrived first in Portuguese; perhaps, after so many years, he was finally becoming Brazilian.

Having the Boys to Tea

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And my word! Wouldn’t you know it, in two shakes of a jiffy they have shucked off all their clothes and are butt naked right here in my den. I don’t have to wonder what Mother would say if she could see them here. “Keep the noise down, boys!” I ha

one dozen haiku

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strumming on the pipe/blowing on the lute's body/drumming on the horn.

Hardaway's Poems Piss Off DC Bigwig

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Gladstone called him a ‘goddam nihilist’--

Pewter Badge

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I never killed a cop before.

Optical Delusion

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Veiled by tenuous clouds and dirty air,

Brother Dream

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It’s always daylight there My brother comes running down the sidewalk holding out his arms and calling my name He’s wearing suspenders. He’s gotten thinner in heaven He embraces me warmly wanting us to be friends I give up trying to re

Macarena Lithuania

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At dinner in Marrakech, Namid danced on the table, waving a white napkin, propelled by jetlag and poor judgment.

Picking

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You hear the thrum of blowflies first...

{Pulgas}

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Fleas were a constant reminder that humans are food.

My Way

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We were over Casper, Wyoming, when some terrorists tried to take over the airplane. They had concealed weapons.

A Short Film About Baseball

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The throw was the last leg of a triple play.

Soon to Be a Minor Motion Picture (excerpt)

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Man, you never ceased to crack me up! If you thought you'd just been called a homo, you probably wouldn't want to try to disprove it by grabbing hold of a naked guy and wrestling him to the floor of a shower room.

Ants

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The fettuccine is a disaster. Mini-ants have invaded the container. Barry spots them in the boiling water after pouring in the pasta, not much more than floating black specks, but too many to ignore. He dumps out the pasta and returns to the closet to…

Poets House, NYC (revised)

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Oh, you can’t stay, your poetry/ Is still out in the world, maybe when you die/Your volumes will make their way/Not just here but everywhere

Notel Nobel

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That was before Cohen died. Castro died. Castro Died should be a title by Samuel Beckett. Once I nearly went out to buy a bass clarinet just for the purpose of playing along with Leonard Cohen.

Across the street.

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When the talking's done, they get in their cars to go wherever they go, and just as soon as that last car clears the path, the yellow-cabbed trucks are back and the men get out.

Clouds to the Makers

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You'll be gone. I'll be gone. I'd hate to think how it was all for nothing, that all we did was stumble into a pretty big hole of our own making. The best place for a broken heart after all is in your own sweet chest. No one else…

Homecoming King

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John Lipkin took a drag off his cigarette and rummaged through his desk drawer looking for pot. There wasn't any. He remembered looking last night, but he looked again now. There wasn't a damn thing, just some stems…

What Is Life?

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He heard her crying out behind the curtain that had been drawn around the bed. Each cry was more strained than the last. She complained about the burning, called the nurses "putane" and threatened to rip out the device they'd inserted into her. He sat t

If My Book...

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If Single Stroke Seven were a cocktail, it would be a Bloody Mary made of one part Worcestershire sauce, the other part gas station vodka, and ketchup and hot sauce packets swiped from fast food joints. Chill with ice crystals chiseled off freezer walls,

Obituary

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Patrick Savage, who has died aged 29, was a poker player fast on his way to becoming a cult figure in the music scene.

September Morning

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They were carried out / over shoulders of running soldiers / naked bodies pass

The beautiful young girls from high school

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There's No Crying in Poetry

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There’s / no crying in poetry!” says Coach / Bukowski

~true myth zoo spa~

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flash read. have fun *cheers*

moving forward

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see this:/ ink-stained paper/ littering miles