Most read stories

Spider and Fly Cafe

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I saw it coming from five feet

High Jinks

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“Gorgonzolla!” The remnant croaked, his eyes wild as he thrust an open hand in Jaffron's direction. A burst of energy tilted Jaffron's pod on its axis and sent it hurtling backwards...

Kite Flying

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She may never know and it sureis a small world. She may neverknow and they have a list. She maynever know, I'm very grateful.She may never know and I couldhave sworn we were getting along justfine. I refused to say goodbye. I am still wearing those…

The Artist

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

Grocery Deliveries

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I was shooting baskets in the driveway when the Mexican kid delivered the groceries. He drove in fast and loud . . .

Shadow Play

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I was quite alone in this small room with the tarp and the dying fire.

blind

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what world is this?

Gehryspeak

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IN nature, it's hard to find a straight line. Stand on a beach. Look out to sea. There out far you might think you see a line where the sky comes down to join. Where two fields of blue meet. But where you're not quite sure for the line is a blur there. You…

The Assistant

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The Assistant is lost again in a grid city. Again she feels disconnected from the world. Where she is the sound has been switched off.

Not finding you

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Had this been a film, I’d have seen you at once. Extreme close-up: my finger on the green button that opens the door to the park. Long shot: my leaving my bike at the entrance. Slow shot: my walking down the narrow stone path.

Community

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an undercurrent of fear is running through my community

Language Lesson

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I smoked my cigarro under his watchful eye. We were never able to make too much conversation even when I was teaching him at Educenter. Now that David had opened his own school, Evert had come to learn with him because it was much more affordable, but he

Baby Catalogue

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my mouth is open, ready to bite your tiny toes

Supply and Demand

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There are 1.45 million readers of poetry in the US and 2.9 million poets. The odds of an audience are bad.

Dream State

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forced to submit/ to reasonableness// and universal healthcare.

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…

One Nil

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Each step you take on the pitchEach mile driven downEach closed exit of highway Blocked avenues of importanceBoarded up HammeredNailed shutPeople and places and things You can't get to anymoreThe knife and the needle The black and the…

A Body Unable

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

The Apartment House

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

Bullied in the Bible Belt

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Every Monday you brought your Sunday finest to the bus stop...

Soliloquies of Mr. and Mrs. Macb.

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A small bar of glycerin soap floated in the sink full of bloody water . . .

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.

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."

What Old Tamber Had to Say

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“They say she lives alone out there.” “What, like out in the woods?” “Not like way back in a cabin or anything, but in a little house out there off the road. I'm not even sure she has a car.” “What, does she…

Mercy Mercy Mercy

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When I was young and self-born in religion my aunts, uninterested in being washed in the Blood of Christ, called me Preacher Boy. I didn't pay them any attention. It was fine by me, I said, if they wanted to sit around and paint their toenails . . .

The Hollow Affronts, Internal

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And it's a tough thing to become a father, a contradiction; guiding a child to avoid the things that you know about so well.

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.

It Seems You've Stumbled Upon My Bildungsroman

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Why yes I began writing this, my bildungsroman, Who is Mitsy Jackson, in spring, 1974 or thereabouts, and thank you so much for asking.

Send

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Send me a secret story in a song just for me

Windows

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The Kid, The Executive, The Doctor, and The Actress.