Stories tagged poem

Denouement

11051105 views55 comments44 favs

No one has the right/ to script how someone dies.

What The?

5757 views22 comments11 fav

Let me tell you this: while the meds are asleep we silently weep on our guitars, and our girlfriends make up stories to cover the tracks of their youth.

Something Like the Promise of a Better Life

11081108 views66 comments44 favs

Unhappiness is a necessary boon

Sounds like leaving

14651465 views1414 comments1111 favs

chains across all the old doors

trixie

13241324 views99 comments77 favs

she had a chipped tooth...

Crumbling Stones Crush Our Self Esteem

12801280 views1111 comments77 favs

Jimi and Janis remain fierce and beautiful

Is It Slap-Happy Hour Yet?

5555 views11 comment11 fav

Aren’t there hundreds, nay, thousands, nay, millions who have the organizing gene within them and cannot get rid of it, no matter what? It just may be underachievement at its best, or the wonder-cheese of youth? It may be the narrative thread

Aesthetic Strategy

12111211 views77 comments55 favs

it acquires a fine translucence

Because words are insufficient

15901590 views99 comments77 favs

The day you came to the wedding the sky was so, so brightly July./ I saw my face where I left it the last time . . . .

Art exploits

11751175 views55 comments55 favs

Against// the mysteries and the dark/ it illuminates and shapes

The Circle

6666 views22 comments22 favs

Woman bites into pearl, finds baby oyster. Woman bites baby oyster, finds baby pearl. Woman blows on baby pearl, it begins to grow. Woman gets excited. Now we’re getting somewhere, woman says.

Quantum Mechanics

953953 views22 comments11 fav

It seems a little solipsistic/ but may indeed be evidence of God// given its mystery and caprice.

Threshold

13461346 views77 comments66 favs

But we proliferated back

To The Little Mouse Who Started Feeling Slightly Nauseous

12671267 views66 comments55 favs

I heard them praying to some god none of us had ever heard of. I'm glad I went to the funeral and still have the yellow rose that I did not throw into his grave. At some point you have to stop nibbling from the moldy cake.

Why I Write- Item Seventeen

10011001 views44 comments22 favs

I feel I am, in fact,/ the dimmest and least wise/ man on earth.