Most read stories

At the Faire

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Carl and Dolly were actors. Dolly was offered the lead in a porno film, but she turned it down.

Appeasement

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No, I’m not at the junior high bus stop. I’m at the dining room table with my parents.

Begettings

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However did we make it this far/ without murdering one another as the other sleeps

Rudolph Had a Dream

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The others fell silent and cast glances back and forth to each other.

Watching

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An anorexic middle-aged woman walked up and watched me..

The Sadness of Thrift Shops

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They couldn’t have done it better if they’d waved guns around in the air.

Arcana Magi Zero Arc 3 - c.3

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Just as Megumi aimed her spell between Arturo and the shrine, a blast of white light fired like a cannon.

The Secret

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Of course then I did it all over again. Got married, that is. Fortunately, this one worked out.

Shout to the dead

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All the years since, until this morning, I'd thought the actor was James Gregory.

The Lot

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The inhabitants of the surrounding neighborhood steered clear of the Lot, mindful of its existence, its countless drags of scrap, drenched with the fused association of many scenes and emotions from memory and experience. Left to its own devices, the place is now…

The Game

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We touch the places now, feel the hardness of bone...

First Lesson (Mother Tongue Series)

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I used to see kids at the mall with those extendable "kid leashes". Like the ones made for chihuahuas. Like the ones made to squash a good story, you know...

Let the shitbirds fly

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Ann had the vague idea that they would get it all worked out, and somehow, by tonight, she’d be in Robert’s arms again, and he’d be the old Robert, the man she’d known 15 years ago. She had no way of knowing, of course, that a Robert was going to

Memory Loss, or Shitty Stand Ins

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Do not listen to Christmas music out of season. Unless of course you want to ruin Christmas music. Forever.

The Scavenger

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I am a scavenger. I sit on the telephone wire, a ravenous vulture watching a man and a woman arguing across the street. The clouds remind me of ashy marshmallows I found in a fire pit yesterday. The woman starts violently shoving the man; he stumbles…

Our Closet

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I was enchanted with the suppleness and intensity of her movement and slowly edged to hide myself askew from the jam as not to disturb her.

A Piece of Him

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the / future is now incomplete

Man Resting On Tires, NYC

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A man asleep on a stack of tires in front of a tire shop on 10th Aveune, NYC. A store that’s “open 25 hrs,” where apparently time is being manufactured. The unknown new element, the 25th hour, even though the other 24 may have been shortened som

chicken little considers the sky again

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oh, sure i’m still running around like a heads-up/off/prophet/profit/fit trying to cut off my very own de/(con)instruction and all other sordid a•void•able & available/a-Babel towers of post &toastmodern doom/daze

Like Worship

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The bartender keeps asking what you smell and you say: lemons, oak, and pear. I smell lust. We move to the reds. Pinot Noir. Cabernet Sauvignon. Port.

Glowing Inhibition

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There will always be some who misread the dance

Three as She Lay Sleeping

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As I watched her sleep, I saw gentle frost and sun on crystal.

Dithyrambic

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What's that snitch doin' here?

Old Man's Winter

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The old man’s face is worn and tired, his nose and cheeks tinted red over his pale black skin from the frosty January winds blustering through town. He looks more than half frozen, which I don’t find surprising.

I Knew Her

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We met in the theater.

Kimchi Hatchet

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“You’re not Jesus"

Sounding

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Grey would rather be in the trees or down by the river. When a wind comes up, he grabs the wooly blanket from the hook in the barn and calls Phoebe. They stretch the blanket out between them and sail into the grassy meadow that slopes down the hill from t

The Ships of the Neva

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Where in the shadows of these raw streets does love last longer than a flyer?

"If I die again, just let me go"

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Will wondered if Doobie was afraid that it might be nothing but the abyss waiting on the other side, but he promised Doobie he’d let him pass on if it was finally his time.

Notes from Matrimony, # 9

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I arrived Sunday evening to a darkened house. Everything unplugged. Even the fuses from the breaker. Meticulous, this undoing. Silence has a sound. Cold has a voice, a pearly cigarette whisper. It says, “Metaphor?”