Alphabetical stories


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Welcome aboard the N62.

Nadja on Nadja -- an excerpt

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"I would like my pictures to look as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail, leaving a trail of the human presence, memory trace of past events, as the snail leaves its slime." Francis bacon “Feminine …

Nail polish

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Those in the house don’t notice the sweaty woman on their lawn any more than they notice the Ruger LCP pistol she holds limply in her right hand.

Naked (a translation)

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His body echoed in the mirror/ cracked into distant images

Naked Coffee

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My wife makes coffee naked. Didn't used to. Back then, before the accident, she hated her body. Says that's why she gave it to me. She's serious about it too. The coffee, I mean. Developed a whole ritual around buying, measuring, pouring. Every day it's the…

Naked Ladies

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She said she wanted to find a man who could appreciate a woman who gave great head.

Naked Launch

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I enjoy launching words into space. Please dangle a moment here while I prepare the next sentence. Ok. You can come in now. Take boiling for instance. And hawsers. The sound of words on a sheet of paper. The manifesto for a roll of sleep. Sleep is oblivious to…


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I was dating my yoga class. It was going all right. Which is to say, the sex was pretty fantastic but otherwise I was beginning to lose interest. I'm thinking of one Saturday afternoon in the summer. We ended up browsing for Father's Day gifts at Crate & Barrel in …


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Every day, I write myself further away From the East Where we began

Naming Crayons, or the Edges of Denim

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neon carrots and atomic tangerines

Naming the Beauties

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the signature of God/ consigning everything/ to the saturating energies of time.

Naming the Scourge We Made

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To give proper credit where due, one name suffices for what humanity likely will be dealing with for decades or centuries to come, and that name is “Technogenic Climate Change”.

NAN : A Novel-In-Stories

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My novel-in-stories, NAN, is now available as an ebook for $6.99. Thanks to everyone who read the first 7 published stories here on Fictionaut.

Nan Sequiter

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there was no mess she couldn’t manage, / no chaos she couldn’t tame.

Nancy's Brother

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Nancy's brother, Ronnie would wait until church was out and pull the bench up to the piano play and sing show tunes, even humming them loudly if he didn't remember the lyric. Crooning away — as if he had the lead in a Broadway musical. Well, that was part of it,…


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I remember the days when my brother and I would walk down Tillman Square, careful to avoid the cracks zigzagging along the ground. Well I did. My brother made a point to step on every one.

Napomo 17: April 1-6

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April spit its greeting, toe to head.

Napomo 17: April 13 - 18

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Bones consolidate with age. The fleshy/ bits of body follow by wrinkling and/ spreading outward, appearing to expand.

Napomo 17: April 19 – 24

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There are no inspirations./ There are only the things I like/ and the much more numerous// things I do not like.

Napomo 17: April 25 - 30

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As air warms and warm/ winds stir, green becomes the force/ that surges the plains.

Napomo 17: April 7-12

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The drinking will continue/ until morale improves

narcissus, remember me

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You were never at all like Narcissus, trying to remember girls’ names with marble in their eyes. You never adored your own image, looking at yourself in the river, not like I did (looking in the mirror that brings sleep.) I remember you admiring the dre

Narrow Results

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How would we know?

Nascent Talk with the Gypsy

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She was having a laugh, but I didn't know what about. We were sitting in a big house that was on the top of a large incline. All these books were scattered around, and the walls and the kitchen, the doors and the quarter round and every other thing, was old and…

Natchez Shrapnel

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I was like a bullet shot from a university tower


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sometimes i have to be in the other room just so i can breathe easy away from you.

Native to Afghanistan

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Your father's remembrance and memorial would be inappropriate for me to attend. never mind the truth the searing…

Nativity in Tahiti: Paul Gauguin

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The young girl has given up, and lies sprawled out upon the yellow cover on the bed, with her blue sarong wrapped loosely around her body. One arm lay back up above her head, where it was thrown during the exertion of birth. Her yellow halo surr

Natural Histories I

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I feel about the universe/ as Abrahamics are supposed/ to feel about their Yahweh, /their God, and their Allah:/ I am in fear, I am in awe, /I am in love.

Natural Histories II

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n truth, they are not red/ but chestnut./ But “Chestnut Wasp” lacks menace