Most read stories

Strangeness

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The goose on the roof isn’t aware it is doing anything odd...

Rat Hunter

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We came to the dump at dusk to shoot rats.

Walking to Gibraltar, Chapter 13: In Which Dr. Cowboy Rides Again

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Frank sat next to her on the gurney and squeezed her hand. "You're going to be okay, Astrid. You're going to wake and it's going to be over and you're going to be okay." "You don't know that," she said.

A Physician Bearing Witness

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Human, you said, Comfort me, at this the end, Life so long, and smiles so short, What will lie beyond the bend?

Chalk (Sunflowers) on a Sidewalk

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Okay, so it's not exactly the lost art of sweeping anything away . For the sad fact that no one searing Love endures just for us. Brown, folded Petals, yellows buttered over petals, I do not Wait to see if the floating moon Can at…

wolf of my soul

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Happiness is the twin disobedience, to hear, to burn, to fret, desiring union. They shall touch flesh, bluish even, that elicited the happy city's sin. Why be silent? The untouchable nothing? Let there be that place, a little swelling therein, which

My Father Teaches Me To Drink Straight Shots

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of Jim Beam when I was maybe fifteen. Or anyway old enough to admire the lesson.

How to Be the Most Hated Person on BART (London Tube, Tokyo Bullet, or Any Public Transit)

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The daily slog on public transit is a battlefield. Tensions are often higher than a presidential debate, but throw a wrench into the gears (or a tree branch onto the tracks) with any “severe delay,” and add in one or more of the below faux pas, and we’re

Who’s Calling?

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“I’m a sucker for a good first sentence but I won’t dismiss the whole work based on a bad one. Besides, anybody with an MFA can write a decent first sentence. You can’t judge the whole work based on that.”

The Lookout

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I had never seen anyone die. For first time in my life, I was afraid, even more than when my step-dad got drunk and roughed me up. When Dale Franklin got shot last year standing on the corner outside the laundry-mat it took the ambulance forty-five minu

Love Stories

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I've got an appointment to see my shrink next Wednesday. She's pretty sharp. Not bad looking, either.

1888: Mrs. Sherwood

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It's gone too long since her Robby Sherwood's dreams rose through the tenement chimney into pear-sweet clouds. Once was he planned histories, carried herself over slopes of hesitations to the night meadow, soft-skinned and whispered. Her man shouldered…

Forgive Me, Leonard Cohen

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There’s a price / on everything

My Books

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My books wound you. They wound me / too.

Broken Vase

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Once was when we were in Vegas on layover from L.A., I told her I thought we should go to the Elvis Chapel and get remarried.

On The Day That Norman Mailer Died

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Hollow as spit over rock Was the mood in the library...

A Not-For-Kids Dream That All Boys Have

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The room turns red and I start screaming and ejaculating. The whole class is watching as Mr.Smith slams down my copy of the test with his right hand and swiftly tears off my penis with his left.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 4

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There was no one there, but the smell of cooked bacon permeated the hall, triggering borborygmus in his stomach. He loved that word, but not his empty stomach.

IT BURNS

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“Again,” Danny said, and I hit him with everything I had until I was out of breath and it was his turn to hit me. We did this three, four, five days in a row, took the weekend to admire our bruises and heal a little, and then on Monday we were back up th

The Ungrateful Dead and the Human Resource Recovery and Refineries Act

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Incidents intensified. The Dead appeared in twos and threes at shopping mall and Wal-Mart parking lots.

My Drunk Friend

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My drunk friend is built like a hastily packed trash bag; full of lumps and portending very dark things.

Windows

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

Living Alone

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This morning as I stepped out of the shower I was hit with a panicked fit in which it became urgent that I rid my flesh of each drop of water that burdened it. Not quite like the feeling of being…

Rehab

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Well, I finally checked myself into this what you call a “ Facebook Rehab Clinic” up here just about 40 miles outside of Kalispell, Montana in a little town called Gulag and, as I'm sure you can guess, there's no posting or commenting or liking anything anymore…

Ghosts

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"Yes. It was moving, and not along the ground, either. We were. . . looking toward the cemetery, and the ghost or whatever was clearly visible. . ."

His Nightmares

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Motionless seconds turned

Love Story

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I don't know when it was I first stumbled across your blog. I know I definitely must've followed the link on your twitter profile, but how I found you in the first place, I have no idea. But fate works in mysterious ways, I suppose. I remember I then visited your blog every…

How to Take a Meeting, for the Woman Who Fell to Earth

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1) be awake2) wear clothes1a) get out of beda1) go to bed the night before6) put a smile on her face, but not too smiley6a) maintain precisely calculated level of irony and derision in a just kidding (not kidding!) manner suited to responses of the enemy6aia) normal words,…

The mannequins are only playing dead

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at nightthe mannequins leave their glass prisons and hunt owls in the forest***sometimes they dance a slo-mo tarantella in a clearingbone-white …

About Face

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I'll strip off the skin down to the begin again.