The President of Costa Rica

By - Feb 19, 2018

The world was designed for trees. Birds came later to move the seeds around. But people who label people toxic are the most toxic. They are worse than hippies.

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Being Gross

By - Feb 16, 2018

Ana had posted a picture on Instagram of her hand in a flower. I scrolled a little further. She’d posted a picture of herself holding a bottle of something I didn’t recognize in a city I’d never been to. I put my head down and walked in front of a car.

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Three Stories

By - Feb 14, 2018

The person was dressed in a dark pink and bright blue satin outfit. His face was painted faintly as if the make-up had been partly removed after hours. Whomever he was, or whomever he was trying to be, this individual had a magic sparkle around him.

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Being Alone

By - Feb 12, 2018

I masturbated on Sherman Alexie’s Pulitzer-Prize Winning The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian because I wanted to know what it felt like to be intimate with something great. All of my lovers have been less than fantastic. Nothing ever happens.

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Three Prose Poems

By - Feb 7, 2018

Will we be broken as light is broken in water, refracted, a trick? Even in our sleep we can’t forget. Stars eating stars. Blue water stippled with light. A shoebox full of teeth. A dog full of many other dogs.

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Three Poems

By - Feb 6, 2018

my name is Sofia ,black eyes, with a tight and petite body, I am 168cm,49kg , 35c-24-34. a cute and sexy girl. I work in a cloth shop in daytime, but in nighttime I am also doing some part time escort. If you like, I can be your Girlfriend for a night.

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Two Poems

By - Feb 2, 2018

I want an artist to try to “understand the shape of my mouth.”

1. Nobody understands it as well as I do. 2. I don’t understand it.

I don’t understand why pilots tell you the cruising altitude. Like, what’s that got to do with me?

I’m not trying to be rhetorical, I really don’t understand.

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The Marine Biologist

By - Jan 30, 2018

The Marine Biologist worries that these bench-sitters might talk to him, or ask him how he’s doing or say something like, nice day, huh? They’d always want to know.

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The Hard Thing

By - Jan 24, 2018

The boyfriend, on his hands and knees, breathed into my neck and repeated, ‘Hot cock, hot cock, hot cock.’

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Discarnate Nude

By - Jan 22, 2018

You pause, grunt, continue. In front of you is a whole room full of objects  suggestively rearranged in a previously unused location, a tool shed, which, now, you’ve jerked off to 1 to 99 times.

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Two Stories

By - Jan 19, 2018

Victor, the ship, moves with his nose forward, the upward side of him in the shape of a pumpkin.
     When he starts to sink, people in him make an exodus, their bodies pushing, jumping, making every effort to get the hell out of him.

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Two Poems

By - Jan 15, 2018

Bugged sexual
External wetware
Sheet mask

Thinking about social inheritance:
Cockroaches produce 6 generations a year

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