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Pillow

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“I was just dreaming about you,” he said, sleepy-voiced. “What's for breakfast?”

When to Say Pussy

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I have hired a relationship consultant. He helps me through conversations with my wife.

Merry Christmas

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He picked at his food. The teen-aged boys gnawed the bones. The conversation was nothing he was interested in. Chitchat and family jokes.

Snatch 7 (come 11)

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...the scream and the face...

Enough, Trump

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Enough, Trump. We've had it my dear, with your pink ties, your hairs, your swagger, your towers, your money, tempers, walls, bombs, smarts, snarls, pouts and doubts, bigotty bile, and once again, style. We just…

I've Bought You A Present

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Look out your window and know that the universe conspired to craft the sunrise for your morning tea, the mug clasped in hand, the light bouncing from the balcony railing. The empty seat next to you will always be filled and I will never properly thank y

It's End of the World Karaoke

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It’s End of the World Karaoke at Big Daddy’s and Lara takes a photo of herself for Facebook before she goes on stage. She’s holding a basket of nachos in one hand and her phone in the other. After she takes the photo, she says, to Javier, “Hold these,” an

February 16, 2006

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When we arriveand are met by strange friendsstrange like the fog on the redreed mudflatsthat span the low tide around Incheon -When we arrivecarrying so much we will not needlike the bus they hire to take us through the darksix people to fill so much more space - When…

There is a woman

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There is

Happy Birthday Mr. Watterson, Wherever You Are!

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Bill Watterson isn't just the creator of the world's best comic strip. According to the book “Looking for Calvin and Hobbes,” a biography of the elusive and reclusive cartoonist, Watterson is also a world-class introvert. Watterson refuses to make…

The Pigeon Savior

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The window washer started saving pigeons whose feet were wrapped in fine black thread, the result, he informed me, of picking through trash bins. They are very intelligent, he went on to explain. (Right, trash bins, I thought to myself.) People tend to av

Malaise

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Endurance wears the soul thin.// The hour to succumb ticks ever closer.

Philip Guston Painting of the Courtroom

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While the head of the KKK stands by for the next order, ready to mete out punishment, and smoking a cigar. They are so efficient, like ex-Nazis.

Desert

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On a trail, Richard and I came upon a saguaro cactus that had dried in the shape of a human figure. Its arms were lifted and its back was stooped. I said, “It looks like my mother.”

Interview with the Cat

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As part of an online writers ”interview” series, I decided to deviate a little from the norm and do my first interview with our housecat, while I await my first ever conversation with an actual human.

Mad Max

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When his wife left him, a friend told him that resentments were like canceled checks. You weren't going to get your money back.

prima vera

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a road moment

Kate

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It’s that laugh of hers that gets me...

Owl Watching

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I attended the burial of our affair when I found her notebook— maybe it should be called her diary—that she had foolishly left on the deck of my beach house where she stayed while I was on that short trip to Chicago. Numb at first, unsure how to proceed, I went…

some poetry will shut you up

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o christ/ here you are again/ you sickness appearing in my brain/ pouring smog from my jaw/ my body hot and cold as though sleepless/ while i could sleep/ centuries/ undisturbed/ and awaken, tireder still./

Manliness!! *urp*

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It starts on the Fallopian Speedway

The Element of Ritual

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Nurse Smithers straightened Dr. Baumgartner’s feathered head dress. it had slipped down below the caduceus so carefully painted on his forehead by the medical ritual staff.

Rob's Send-off

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They could cram Rob inside the trunk and then drop him somewhere in the dingles.

Towards the End of Memory

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This will be the century of infinite sadness,/ sadder even than the Twentieth/ with its expansive catalog of horrors.

Confession

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Tomorrow, they'd bury their daughter . . . and still, so many questions. Why would a beautiful fourteen-year-old choose for herself such a horrible, painful death? In life, she appeared the antithesis of suicidal ideation: excellent grades, well-liked in school and…

On the Road

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how did they not know

Peggy Guggenheim Visits an Operation

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To pay the bill.

Saga For The Eyes

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Stars fat as the stars that Van Gogh painted on his easel in Arles, a ring of candles burning on the brim of his hat. Stars that fill the night with delirium.

The Stairway (Short Story Excerpt)

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Leaves clouded the air and piled in great brown heaps like rotted snow on the old Maine road, disturbed for the first time in months by a lone, black SUV. It plowed its way slowly across the asphalt, the black surface cracked and hoary with years of neglect, past…

I Want You

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to have something, but I don't think you need anything from me. There are poems that belong in your hair and no one else's. They should be like stars that only appear every one thousand years or so, then can only be seen when you are…