Most read stories

Arcana Magi Zero + Pure - c.4

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Everyone kept up with Nemo until the scent led them to the edge of the city. The elders sniffed the ground and found Satoshi’s scent into the stoned woods.

even from the moon

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even from the moon our planet’s truth has not been seen.

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…

Rocket

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The Chicago to Denver fast train clocked 90 MPH plus, but braked hard on the long curve through town, sparks ringing flanged wheels.

Bait Shop

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They wanted to go fresh water fishing, so I had to buy worms. None there in the saltwater town. Drove about 10 miles over the long bridge to cross the bay. I'd been there before. Walked in and a crusty, little skinny man got up from his chair. He: Watcha need? Me: Fresh…

Corrections & Clarifications

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It was Fredrick Miller, not his murdered son Matthew, who was executed Monday night at Henshaw Prison. (the system won't take anything under 200 characters, so this part is just to take up space. please ignore)

Henry's Moment

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“You need to keep a close vigil on your X-Ray binaries from the Sun. The star and its blazing temperature could spill over at its outer-most edges. The material would be such a high temperature; it would destroy all life on your planet, and…

My 27th Great-Grandparents

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Early Spring, 1075, Northumbria: Judith, too ashamed to speak, too angry to cry, waves her handmaiden away. She wants no food. Wind drives icy rain across the thickness of…

Serving Up Apathy

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"Did you want that with the shrimp or the chicken?" the waitress asked. "Uh, shrimp is fine" the old man replied. "I'll be right back with some more bread" the waitress plasters a fake smile on as she walks away. 'What the hell am I doing. I've got a BS i

The Book Bindery

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In a mad tipsy leap you came up short and hard on the chipped stone counter Bruised and blue below the seams against the inside of your thigh. Your grand jeté a little too low, left you on the black floorboards Wincing in…

You're All Knuckles

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Her eyeballs are made of fur, like plush little bumblebees at home in her sockets.

Snowed-in March Against the Beautiful Pain Memory of Love, A Ghazal

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Infinite patience, tempered glass hearts—is this what it takes? / Shatterproof backtrack, slow march through reversals—too, what it takes.

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…

My Dad was a ditch digger

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men sitting on stoops women earning the rent by working as servants in the rich folks yard

I Don’t Think Her Last Name Was Tucker

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I ran into Tanya at “Pearl's” — maybe it was still called “Big Balls” — over in the Stockyards (Ft. Worth) in '72 and right up front we both admitted to loving honky-tonks and “done me wrong” songs which is why we were there…

Speeding on the Highway at 2AM

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I am speeding on the highway at 2AM because no one is here...

falling, endlessly

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Clouds quickly appeared, in a perfect peach sky. Big, puffy clouds, moving together, formed the shape of a heart.

Whirl

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Wanna,wanna, whoop de loop. Hold my baby, kiss my mom, dance the way I used to do. Desktops, blacktops, cut and paste, speed down hills, learn the rules, Sister Saint Marion, married to Christ. Sixteen, life-green, pink tights, Swan Lake, an…

Sugared. Spiced. Salted.

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They continued sitting by the fake oasis, drinking single malt, eating soy crackers and chatting about the quality of escorts in glitzy glamping resorts. The Paring happened on number three. Just as the gold leafed chocolate fondant oozed decadent Bolivia

Masquerade

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. . . music and dance, theatrical performance of tragedies and comedies . . . a primeval orientation, celebrating the cultivation of herbs and vines . . . ritualistic use of intoxicants, to remove inhibitions, to liberate participants . . .

prima vera

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a road moment

A Hall of Mirrors

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My face in your face The light in your eyes Dancing and twirling Growing, alive A hall of mirrors reflecting me Shards of glass Silver and black Injure and cut Years of bad luck A hall of mirrors protecting me Wrinkles and bags Time's been unkind Disease and…

Suicide Machines

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["Mea Culpa" means: I don't care what you think, sorry is when I feel like making you hear me say it.]

The Twenty Minute War

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Maybe there was no truth. Things had become so strange that sometimes Jannsun suspected that everything had already happened and we were just toying with selective memory.

next love letter

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Eat me so I can sink in your mouth, my paper fraying along the sharp topography of your tongue, lodging in the holes where your teeth used to be. There, I will storm an infection until your mouth inks my words.

Arcana Magi Zero Arc 2 - c.2

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Alysia and Megumi made their magic circles, but they stopped short when they saw a young man at the end of the street. Their eyes trembled and their feet moved them back without thought.

My Third First Novel

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One of the publishing industry’s dirty little secrets is that first novels sell much better than second novels. So why not enhance your chances for success by calling your second novel your first?

At the Reception

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"Check out these dudes,” he says. “They're all wearing kilts. Not that there's anything wrong with that, as long as they're wearing underwear.

Darker

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The moon poured more/ light into the sky/ yet we kept on talking

All Fall Down

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He just up and dropped dead one day, Charles said. Pretty tough on Karen, I opined. Charles looked the other way.