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The Bridge

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The Bridge Barstow had not wanted to listen to Griff. Griff was not making the right decisions, or he thought Griff was not making the right decisions. Thought he was walking a…

Halfway Out The Door

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She asks if I only write about men, which I tell her is redundant. I also answer, “Yes, but sometimes I write about them as race cars, hyenas, vaginas, or God.” She smirks like she wants to smile, but it’s stuck halfway out her door. Her happiness has

This is Poop Patrol!

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Sherry and I stand on the sidewalk on a sunny morning, watching her dog take a dump. She's new to the neighborhood and we've just introduced ourselves. The dog, a handsome poodle, does the deed efficiently. “See you later, Gloria!“ Sherry says…

Arcana Magi Divine

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Amyra pressed her hands on the brick wall and rubbed it. She thought about hanging something on there, but she did not have the tools to make a hole. In fact, the thought of having a hole in the wall would be enough.

Wild Dreams of Reality, 12

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I went out behind Parker's house and saw Darrell's tent set up in the grass. The flaps of the pup tent were open. I could see him through the mosquito netting. He had a Coleman lamp burning and lay on his back in his underwear on top of his sleeping bag.

god

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The litany of tough decisions scrawled on. Stencil Gucci on no-name jeans. Buy cheap chocolate and scrape the name off. I looked over and watching the saliva encrusting in the corner of Larry’s mouth, my heart sank.

Please Take

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I have a ball-pein hammer in my coat pocket.

randy the ram

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For you I bring the circus, I reinvent the shine

Absence

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You anchor the real You make love to the true I am bound to you in consecration

Cake

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A little poem

Ethics

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If I wanted cautious I wouldn't be in her bed. She would only sleep with her husband. Adultery is not for pussies. So I dive back into the conversation which has made my dick limp and ask where I'm wrong in our post-coital chatter and she says it doesn't

Mores

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I like my men like I like my wine: in a box.

He Brings Things Closer

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Behind the plastic kitchen, where the special children sometimes sit, a large boy in tight dungarees had grabbed Stephanie's hair in one fist.

The balloon of you

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and the mass exceeds the buoyancy/ and gravity pulls you back,

Snowdrops

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'Do you feel that, my little one?' Stillness. Calm. I felt the baby move her tiny little feet and smiled.

Bare Feet

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Bare feet on hardwood floor Twists into circles

the wicked daughter

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The air has its dark confessional, and I have mine. Hot is called raw by some, hate mixed with malice for others. I am only separated by this dark window of time from you, but you never feared the lovely or the lonely.

Museum of Everything

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It is the monad.

None But The Righteous

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Susan was twenty-four when it happened again, but she had neither the patience nor the attachment to see it through.

A Million Pieces

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Today's girls all look the same. Angie isn't even sure if one leaves and a new one enters. They blend together like paper-dolls, clinging to one another, connected, braided. This morning, while one of them lies with her legs in a V, the alarm goes off

The Moral of This Story Is

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Always take the train.

Wayne Recalls Rocking and the Power of Positive Thinking

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My mother told me I came out of her screaming and didn’t stop for two years. After that I took up rocking.

THUNDER

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not the sky

Arasoi Chuugi

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"We regret the inconvenience. Due to hijack activity, we have orders to secure this flight. Please remain seated. We will be landing shortly. Thank you for your cooperation."

At the Jennifer Aniston Intensive Haircare Clinic

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Hunger only makes people hungry, but bad hair can ruin your whole day.

Steps

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He deplaned Air France flight 9 from JFK to Charles de Gaulle airport at quarter past noon.

The Fugitive Waits

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The wind rushed by her and she heard the faint sound of barking. And then she knew why she was coming. And she ran.

The Job

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Well, it was on a Monday and you know how bad Mondays are to begin with. I had been up real late the night before playin’ poker and drinkin’. I was thinking that after a couple of hours the hangover would wear off and I’d be okay, but instead I s

Trout Fishing in America Shorty lives on after the death of his dear friend Richard Brautigan, though sadly

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Maybe, after years of writing poems like letters, he began to notice that no one ever wrote him back.

Deerhead Puppets in the Forest

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A spark is a gouged word: stewed to annihilate, scrambled, botched in a pot to dry. Lead us to the quiver, let us tremble. Noon, we paw nails under rugs, run fingertips over books, rip cupboards from hinges and spiral open the machine, for the creature is near the roof or…