Those silver cans ofgovernment meat, seton the table with a redand white checkeredtablecloth.An old yellow light hungon a chain illuminatingthe can of meat.It tasted like flavorlessgum.It seemed like a mish-mashof byproducts that no oneelse wanted.Mom always tried to makea...

How to maneuver on the siteTo upload your WorkClick on Write and Publish1 = You will see series, add series chapter number and edit seriesThis is for your stories that have more than one chapter and want to stay...

This poem is written by my friend Worldofesin   This poem is written by my friend, Worldofesin.You're the beautiful poppyflower that sits in a corner of the big city street in Tirana.You are the last sailing ship on the ocean thats...

In all the smashed cats on the road days ofhungover afternoons, and empty pocketmornings, one constant wherever I waswere the trips to the library.I read most everything back then:HamsunHemingwaySteinbeckFitzgeraldEugene O’Neill, and Gogol,and always Bukowski.They were my lighthouse in theabysmal...

I sleep with mytop hat on these days.It keeps the rabbits fromcrawling out and runningaway.They are the safest close tomy brain when I sleep.I don't want them eaten byferal swine or to wanderoff and drown in a vat of...