Most read stories

A Shadow on the Summer Sun

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Shadows are so admirable in film noir less so on x-rays and mammograms

The Face in the Oatmeal

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It was uncomfortable to realize people had agendas. That there could be invisible realities.

Some Things I Have Learned As A Writer

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1. Poor grammar does not sleep. 2. We'll never finish every idea we have. 3. No matter how hard you try, you still might make it into my book

Goddess

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“So, do you still think I'm hot? I mean, do you think men still find me attractive?” Jenny asks. This is never a good question to answer, much less entertain. I know this as surely as I know anything. Still, let's break it down. I am married. Jenny is…

One More Silver Dollar

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Culloden County, MS - 1989 All Janine knew was the idiot had a gun. As to why he would ever need one was beyond her. He couldn't look dumber holding it, either. He was too small for it, or at least he looked that way to…

In Your Dreams

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What did it mean? What would a psychologist say? Oh, who cares. In my opinion, we ask why, what, when, where, and how too often.

Chatter

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The night before his mother's teeth began chattering.

The City of Lights

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Paris is a great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.

The girl laughing in the dictionary.

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Trigger Warning.

The Raging River

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We'll all face the raging river, some sooner than others.

Man, Ending

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The man had decided that this was going to be his last day. He’d find out one final thing and he’d be done. He had spent the last few years of his life unwinding things that had been wound and untying knots that had been tied.

The Four Despairs of Lumpy

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children love to push the gas up and down my limbs

Valentine

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"His middle name is Valentine, and when asked about it, he isn't sure why."

By Derangement of All Our Senses

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We will collapse in a storm of images

Shakedown Street

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The combined smells of ocean breeze, grilled cheese sandwiches, incense and sweat and burning herb that wafted over from Shakedown, along with windblown notes from tinny car speakers all rolled into a potent sensory cocktail he hadn’t tasted in far too l

Bonfire

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On our back porch, the tiki torches are lit and so am I.

The Taste in My Mouth

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whose spit is this?

Tax Tips From Tila Tequila, Professional Bisexual

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“We’re never going to get off the treadmill of paying ever-higher taxes," I said, "unless we get some creative suggestions from a professional bisexual tax advisor.”

Early Tuesday Morning

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The moon hung in the sky, round and pale, under cover of some wispy clouds.

Walking Coma / Resurrection Happens

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It’s possible to forgive the past its trespasses / stop seeing the future as a threat, reimagine / the present as a goal.

when i take a hint, i take it really hard

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it's the constant reminders of something that was never a constant remind her but i suppose there is no ticking clock on that which is wondrous and it was right right it's hard to come up with cleverly phrased universal truths and it's hard to make…

fish gut buckets

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The pier stretched out by where sharks came and men waited with beautiful dirty buckets that held strange and dangerous things, buckets with fish guts, buckets with blood, with character, buckets like prophets or a gritty desert walking saviour like Chris

Goebbels in the Underworld with All His Pretty Ones

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The universe extracts no retribution./ It annihilates without a thought/ of evil/good, sin/virtue.

U R Doomed

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the swarthy terror network

Gifts for Bonnie & Charlie

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Jojo dolls & basketballs a mindflex & pick-up sticks Parcheesi and—no, not Parcheesi a supersoaker, a Care Bear

Did You Get Two

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“106 more miles,” she said.

I Follow

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Her shoes, left uninhibited below, seem sad but understanding, and she is so in love with something, which makes me so in love with the idea of her.

Noises

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It was midnight. I was outside the cottage, digging another row of star-shaped holes for the shrubbery.

from Presence

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we gave divided houses / child stand up anyway

A Fine Life

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It's really not too bad. The personI am was me. We laughed insidethose sacred places at all the monieswell spent. We walked in the gardenswithout any shoes on. Not one singleflower seemed to mind. And now it'sa forgotten mess or so I've imagined.I'd rather you think about…