Most read stories

Love in the Afternoon

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“What took you so long?” she asks. She seldom asks me that when we’re done, but today I feel ready to protract the glory, to tease out its rise and fall like the lingering chords of a Debussy pastorale.

I Took Part in 5 Orgies, Which I Liked, and Got Pounded into Shit

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[PARTY.]

Pool

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“That pool will be the death of me.”Which Dad said at least a couple of times a week. Ten times the week after he'd read the TXU bill.“Goddamn pump, and that twitchy little Polaris. We should fill that pool with dirt and plant some trees and Asian…

Sinking to the beat

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I'd wear my pajamas too, fitting for the big sleep

Mort

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Mort’s hand-mind suffered electrifying-absence-emptiness; no wife.

continuously uncomfortable

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I could feel myself slipping back into my old ways again and it always hurt like hell.

The Cactus

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Each evening the man allowed himself an hour of fresh air. He and Prickles would situate themselves on the tiny balcony overlooking the same street, a blanket bundled around them both for warmth. These were the times he liked to talk to Prickles the most

Palm of Her Hand

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He trembled as she splayed open his palm...

Meal

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When they tell you to choose your last meal, it probably hasn't dawned on you yet.

A Letter From Uncle Bernie

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...Truth is, it’s because of fabulously wealthy men and women like myself who long ago sucked all the cream out of the bottle, and now we’re coming back for whatever milk remains.

mermaid tale

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your words that came crashing over me/ so cold the clear shock was like salt water

Myra's Middle Name

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Maybe our whole generation is going to hell, but I’m not getting any younger or better looking. Life’s too short for the missionary position.

Strange

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Words are looking ever so strange today like a hole in space a wind in a cloud a face superimposed over a mountain

Homunculus

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Tiny was my daughter. Or what was left of her. A mucous-y chunk of what was once in my womb and then wasn’t.

You're Breathing My Relapse

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I was an alcoholic for ten years, starting in my early twenties and continuing into my thirties. Then finally, after many attempts, I got myself straightened out. My son's birth finally did it for me. It wasn't like a switch flipped in the delivery room…

Solid

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Explanation within

A Thousand Miles Away

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In the house by a kidney-shaped lake, her grandfather was speaking to a stranger about a foreign war that had never ended, had spread close to home.

Born in 1991

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Sometimes I think living in a house with so many rooms / you can get lost just making your way to the fridge / should be enough. I chastise myself for wanting more.

Brussegem, a snug hell (novel excerpt)

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Long ago, this painter Brussegem had hung the dark mantle of Outcast Artist” over his shoulders—and over his life, he formed a strict philosophy—Art and Only Art—and protected his solitude and artistry with all his moody might,....

The Poem Sits at Home and Envies as It Celebrates Music

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Translation’s not required—music/ sings itself complete and comprehensible

The Arms of the Sea

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The water lapped against the sides of the small boat, their rhythm all that I could think of. Sweltering rays beat down, frying my flesh, the insipid salty breeze that occasionally stirred my only relief from it. Gulls circled overhead, like white ravens,

Gipetto's Sin

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The boy grew frightened when his grainy wooden skin began to melt, every fiber humming and softening.

16 Rules to help you become a Writer

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Get comfortable with criticism

Haiku for Jogging

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Haiku for Jogging

Three Point Back (from epiphanyzine.com)

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“...you should have something moving around here.” Tracey looked around, then said, “Paul, you should get a cat.”

The Lincoln Effect

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Ty speed-walked down the long ass tunnel that connected his “A” train to the NJ Transit bus, which would take him across the bridge, where he'd splurge for a cab to take him home.

Friday Briefings

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They could occupy the space// left by creatures larger and more/ evolved.

The Sway

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When it was sticky cool at night, he'd pull her hair up off her neck and spin it like a pinwheel. “You could be anything," he would say. “You could be a preschool teacher.” She waited for him to add, “For dragons! For wallabees! For…

Me and the Dowagers by the Five and Dime

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It's been twenty years since you left. I should call it a day.Even the Obeah woman said as much. But I don't listen. Instead I sit with old and proper ethnic widows in black, waiting for your return. One of them translates my story for the…

Cryptsville USA

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