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Ode to Flannery O'Connor

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Gert sat in the car and wiped at the inside of the window while the defroster blasted at full strength. The shards and slivers of ice that networked across the windshield were just thick enough to hinder visibility. Bane wrenched the door open and shoved

Were I Konstancja Gladkowska

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My playing would falter languidly, and transcend itself like a wishful Nocturne

In an authentic Irish pub in Las Vegas

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In an authentic Irish pub in Las Vegas where over much crowd noise the three of us are discussing Yeats, Joyce and Lady Gregory. We’re in an Irish pub after all, plus the fact we’re literature profs attending a Vegas academic conference.

Library

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Let's start from the beginning. Your mother's face in the phone. Your parted lips. Your surprised tongue. Hands deep in the folds of your skirt. The poet filling your pockets with blue and orange. The poet filling your notebooks with slowly drifting fields and gramophones…

Ossian City

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I hear the shriek of the Laughing Lady

Wanna Bet?

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I was always more comfortable with the ponies than you were / more comfortable with betting windows and two-dollar bills than you were

Tiger Milk (Part 4--the last act.)

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"In the grave my lips will still be moving."

Kamal (from "Echoes: Five Men Speak")

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Hoo-ah! I love these open mikes, I get a chance to pour it out, this… whatever it is, this passion, all this love from I’ll never know where, and then, and then, sometimes, too much hate. Everything’s like all zowie!—splashing scarlet and purple,

Begonia {part three}

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Now, the Kingdom of Begonia was known for its serenity and virtue. But just like any other place, there can sometimes be dark and mysterious inhabitants.

Santa Breaks Bad

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It was bound to happen. Even celebrities can only take so much. The constant comparisons to Christ (people still think He was born in December), assumptions that he was anti-Semite or anti-Islam, and accusations from PETA, now ad litem for…

At the Cafe

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The light on his face from a lamp, felt hat with a black band scrunched down, the light on his face as though thrown there, the nose creating a strong shadow, with dark, straight eyebrows under the hat, red and orange beard. Leaning forwar

A Day At The Beach

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Rothko and Stella loved the beach. To Jalapeno it was just one big litter box and for her it held no great appeal. She sprawled sunbathing on the dashboard lifting a lid occasionally to watch Lauren riding a wave. The dogs delirious with freedom romped and chased tight…

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.]

Snatch 7 (come 11)

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...the scream and the face...

Anthropometamorphism

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I have known a head become / a callus, matriculate, stop / shaving, move to Vegas

Mr. Wazzeldot

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Mr. Wazzeldot has seven legs. He lives very comfortably. He likes to sit by the fire. There's a large cushion for a chair, and in the evenings, he sips his Bloody Marys. I know because I visit him…

Composition: 3 generations and a porch

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It is 1939...

Size Times New Roman

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“I’m making a dress,” she said, feeding the pages through the sewing machine. He didn’t know how to answer. “Are those my books?”

Weltschmerz

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I clearly see the squirrels of negativity all around me or at least I sense that they are there, filling in the blank spaces as I read down the page prior to arriving at the meaning of everything. The greenness of figs before they

shakey

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You held my hand when I hit the ground and told me the shakes would start soon.

Göttwigg’s Fandango

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It is not unusual to see Göttwigg with his shirt on inside out.

Birds of a Feather

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Contention over market share/ is bred in them and we are cousins

One Black Wheel

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"..squeezing her eyes and mouth tightly."

Shoe Lace

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Is this a place to show posterity and mortality?

Cost

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I rifled through the bedside table until I found dirty magazines

Trio Anomie

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We deny one another, here,/ as long as it’s plausible.

Gastro Ad Astra

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He had a simple dream: He wanted to become a star, and not one of those tv stars because those die, those die all the time, and before dying they usually become terrible shadows of their former selves, vile creatures who exploit their own former glory...

By Saturday, We'd Be Singing

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My uncle lived part-time in prison, in a cell with a blanket, pillow, and towel. The remainder of his days he lived in a small house on Prospect Street.

(4) Caution

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“You shouldn’t have gone inside,” he said, after she told him what had happened. “I know that’s what you’re used to doing here, with people we know. But he’s not from around here. Don’t go back over there, okay?”

Rock Band Days

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There were guitar players, and as happens with talent sometimes, the guitar players were too talented. There could not be places for all of them in a single rock band.