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“Jerome always came to play with ideas. It was like he was already thinking about it before we started. I loved his ideas. It caused me to think about it as well. We did variations on a theme and there was always a goal. Sometimes it was to grow and deliv

Last Words

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I met Barry Hannah once in my life. I’d come to Oxford, MS, to meet an entirely different writer whom I thought then and think now very highly of. I’d also come to escape from another slew of regrets. Oxford is a great city to run away to.

Pre-determination

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She never saw me pull the wings off live flies or throw wood lice in the fire just to see them shrivel, drown a beetle in a stream of warm pee.

I know everything's broken, but still I pretend

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Rumor was their only mission was to smash all the glass in the world. They sneezed and smashed and laughed like hell.

And the Canon Rap Got Played

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Back in the sixties, I chanced upon a list of books. That’s right. Sifting a black garbage bin, I found the long lost canon. Seizing the moment, I snatched the list, and cradled it in my palms. I felt proud and patriotic for saving such a noble list f

Tak Tuckerby

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Tak Tuckerby was a racecar driver. He could drive a racecar fast and handle a racecar perfectly. Unfortunately, Tak could only drive in one direction.

"A Death by the Sea" (excerpt)

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Then a flicker caught my eye. To the left of the balcony, where the residential high-rise abutted a commercial building to its right, a shape--half-dark, half-lit--stood on a limestone ledge.

Smoke

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She wanted handcuffs.

Feast of Sacrifice

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I'd have gone even if I got F's for the entire two weeks. The homeless would have homes, the sick, medicine; the hungry would eat. They could not wait for the generosity of Kurban Bayramı. Now was the hour of relief. The children's eyes. Lambs whose bl

Museum Guard

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"Well if we break for lunch at the same time wanna sit with me? I got fruit roll-ups I'll share." Cory looked up at the boy, removing her hand from the water only to brush a lock of dark hair from her eyes. He was still smirking, jaw crunching, saliva

Wandering the Streets of Fitzrovia

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I’m deathly afraid of the pub crawls of my ancestors, through Bohemia and Fitzrovia because of the ghosts of alcohol already etched inside my veins and the headlong loss of oxygen

Poem to My New Lover, All for Free

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Come, bring your sadness to the precipice of my body, bury it within me like a tool

Falling In Love Again

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Marv felt a stirring. Warmth in his gut. "Maybe we should get together," Marv said.

Memory and Restoration

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How a breeze feels evaporating sweat on neck and forearms.

Arcana Magi Zero Arc 3 - c.5

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Alysia raised the staff over the huddle and together everyone created a barrier. The wind blew past them and the grey mist surrounded them.

True-Life Microaggressions or How I Learned To Live In America

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You speak English so well.

THANKSGIVIKAH

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It was a dark and stormy night.

Haze

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Just like D-Ray White’s tapping still bounces off the mountains if the right person is listening, Hasil’s hoots and howls are trapped in record wax like a blood-drunk mosquito in amber.

Snake Eyes

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Not believing enough in God he was made unfortunate. Neither cursed nor damned; merely little things. Missing rides, running out of toilet paper, showing up late. Until, suspecting someone he had overlooked, he chose a God. The wrong One it transpired. Things…

The Puppet Maker

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My sister Janis called me from Berlin and said to turn on the news. You could see the thick flurries of snow that were falling there and the flat feathers of peoples' breaths issuing from their mouths as they took turns swinging pick-axes, standing on top

A Quandry

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On the river he rows a dory. It is filling with water. There is a rectangular hole in the bottom.

I'll be Home for Christmas - 2

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Warning: contains sexually suggestive comments.

Your Love Life

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Maintaining a healthy love life requires effort and professional advice, and Your Love Life columnist would be happy to assist you.

Missing

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... he led what might be called a quiet life

11

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eleven o'clock spills despair all over our bedspread

To Hit a Woman (Lightly)

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Tension slipped from my grip on the dagger as my legs and faith fell apart.

Sleep Music, No. 1

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Now they are sleeping in a poppy field, sun-drenched warm afternoon girls lying on their stomachs and sides, faces in flowers, and flowers blowing, blowing. If this afternoon were every afternoon, the world would be cured.

Four Queens

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She rolls up at school with the word MAYHEM marker-penned across her stomach, wrote so big the first and last letters graze each inner thigh bone. She says it's in honour of some rock star I never knew.

In Paris, The Sweltering

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Then dared each other to travel Much further

The Coach

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We sat in the weight room. The coach walked in with his clipboard and stood until we were quiet.