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Yellow

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Slipshod shoes were the first sign of a meltdown. Sometimes she could see it coming. A prickly gentleman washing his clothes on a Thursday afternoon. One week he’s fine. Nothing wrong with owning a sour face. The next Thursday, his shoes don’t match.

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.3 - c.2

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Sora rubbed her neck as Azure gave her attention. She did not know where to begin, thinking about what to say first.

The Apartment House

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Everybody called her The Crier because from time to time we would hear her crying.

Don’t Ask Me to Collaborate

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Except with the language I was born to./ Occasionally, with painters and collagists-// dead now, typically- who can’t voice/ opposition to my misappropriations.

The Unicorns, Part One

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Later, your father stared, confused, at the empty spot where the wall paint layers ended in the shape of the old machines. He stopped coming in.

Ketchup and eggs

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As a young baby, perhaps a year old, I have a memory of sitting on myfathers lap, in front of a coal stove to keep us warm, while my mothercooked soft boiled eggs for him every morning. He would break offa piece of his toast, dip it in the egg, and feed it to…

Drop Water

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slather consciousness

Ashes (for RC)

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Floating along the ebbs of the ocean,toward the horizon, where time has no say,an end that will never be reached.

blind

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what world is this?

White girl/boy angst

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I’m secretly hoping for a huge bouquet, a fruit basket, a pickle jar of urine in a lunch bag on my doorstep, even.

The Devil's Pass

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“Devil’s Pass.” It had the highest rate of vehicle fatalities per year in the entire State of Colorado. Everyone in my state drove like a bunch of stupid rejects, so I asked the guy just how many? He replied, “Four thousand for the entire state!...Nin

A Body Unable

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Once again there's too much to handle and no space to process

Facebook

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I got an email notification that your relationship status had changed to Single...

the true bliss of objects is entropy

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What the tumbler meant

At the End of the World There Will Only Be Renegade Lovers

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I didn't believe in hiding secrets or broken arrows. So I told my new girlfriend, who in earnest, tried shedding pounds like ugly memories, who glued herself to my shag carpet, watching exerise videos--that I didn't sleep alone. I tried to be as sensitive as possible,…

Beyond the Brown Paper Bag: Baggers & The Bagged Items

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[THIS PROGRAM HAS BEEN EDITED FOR CONTENT, AND TO RUN IN THE TIME ALLOTTED.]

Glorious Zinzins

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I do not know what zinzins is, what a zinzins is, who zinzins is. I do not want to know

For Refrigerator Poets, Verse Builds Bodies and Minds

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"Thanks for the wild sex--let me know if you have any problems with the lint trap."

Fancy That

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Little mercy, ten fingers, ten toes.

Helen of the Poetry World

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That night we went out to shoot some pool at the pool hall over on Durant Avenue, which was above a bar called Kip’s. Rotten Bobby walked in with his own damn pool cue, which came broken down in two pieces. He carried it in a narrow felt-lined carrying

Working things out in my head

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A shot in the dark and everything goes black. It's as if the story never happened.

Bunnies

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I laughed maniacally in my head at the thought, but I kept picking at it all the same, the bunnies had plans for us.

The Judge's Wife Part 10

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The Judge waited for the perfect wave.

The Artist

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The story itself is not much longer than a snippet. What is a snippet anyway?

A Not-For-Kids Dream That All Boys Have

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The room turns red and I start screaming and ejaculating. The whole class is watching as Mr.Smith slams down my copy of the test with his right hand and swiftly tears off my penis with his left.

Getting to Work

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And I don't know how long it will be until she comes outside and figures it all out. Figures me out.

New in Town

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He had a handsome dial tone, we called him every name but his.

Eucharist

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The Devil and the Holy Ghost played Euchre on Friday nights. The Devil drank rock and rye and the Holy Ghost went for Miller Lite. What just irks hell out of me, pardon my French, the Ghost began, is that nobody knows who the fuck I am.

Doctor My Eyes: The Ultimate Cataract Surgery Mix Tape

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Q: What's the best song to sing to your doc before cataract surgery? A: I Only Have Eyes For You

Barbarian(s) Within the Gates

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This writers' conference (sponsored by VQR, which had run its banner ad atop the Fictionaut home page in the summer of 2014, which begins to explain both my attendance and this essay) revealed itself as an apt subject . . .