Most read stories

Typing Right On Fictionaut, Take 1

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We went driving on Sundays.

November

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You sleep in equative lip biting slumber hugging a pillow you think is someone else.

My Resolutions for 2015

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The only resolution I ever kept was when I said I wasn't going to create any more resolutions, and now I'm going to break that one.

Closest Living Relative

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Uncles. Cousins. Enos. No matter how loosely a net is woven, eventually the strands come together again.

Men Go to Great Lengths to Woo Reclusive Poetess

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"‘Man-hater’ is such a harsh term,” she says. “I really like it.”

The Truth about the Law

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I hear the undying screams of the children outside.

Pessoa

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Pessoa, wake up, I need your help!I want to be the universe, I need to be the universe. And somehow be no-one at all. I want to expand and be everything and not be tragically held by One. But I need your help, old man, because my words are not enough to make me forget that…

Wellington Crescent/Rubber Soul/50/50

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They are kind of cool though I’ll admit…pretty types with perfect angles and poise and judicial daddies and shade tree homes, holding their books preciously against their tight bodies as if they’re into academics or something.

Slightly Damp Clothes In the Morning

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It begins with his positioning.

remembering

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I remembered because the man took us to see the horses. I didn't see something that set off a series of memories. I only saw the stables and the moon sitting pensively below the firmament. I looked at these and there was spaciousness between the moon and the stables and…

Stinger: a Novel

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Lipstick on the bolt, she told herself, if it's no good in the slot anymore.

eve

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she lays there wrapped in his baseball sheets

Oh Captain, Good Captain: Part I

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I once knew a sailor...

An Interview With Pere Ubu

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Performed October 21-22, Gallery 263, Cambridge, Mass. Kathy-Ann Hart, the Hostess; Ryan Wenke, Ubu; Tyler Catanella, Alfred Jarry; the author--technician.

Digging Pablo

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They’re exhuming Pablo Neruda To put his old bones to the test Determine if he was murdered At the Capitalists’ request.

First Things Go First And End Up Being Last (the Big Enough Picture)

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I don't have to show you how to fly. I don't even know who you are still possibly trying to be in this crazy grounded world. But the words make us family. I can't help that or what you might do with that public tweet tweet…

Mud

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I told him that the beehive he had for a brain was overpopulated and that he couldn’t seem to go for one minute without desperately thinking that I was going to leave him when I’m sure I gave him no evidence to that effect at all

Prison

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I am trapped.

The Revenge of the Dead Music

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The wind is represented by Miss Abigail Weatherspoon, attorney at law. She wears a pink feather boa and is the spitting image of Janis Joplin as she appeared at the Monterey Pop Festival of 1967.

Fernando

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“It's not him,” Kelly says. “I think it might be,” says her Mom. The three of us are sitting on the long sofa facing the wall which is one …

The Lonely White Elephant in Rome

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the gambling priest stands in the morning fog/red moon hangs in the sky/the army of seven houses marches over the hill

carbon dating

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I became infamous, in certain circles, for what I achieved, maybe more so for what I did not. I invented a dating service for seniors called “Carbon Dating.” I wrote a book called “What Real Estate Did for Me,” which was very brief and to the point. It

Waist Deep in Tissue Packs

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It didn't matter if they burned or not.

There’s Just This

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Coupling—why did I say that? Who says that? I mean the clacking together of bones, the willful splitting of fine and tender skin.

What Was It

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we were all meant to do with our love? What I can think of is to ask the question again. I suppose there are others more willing to supply you with a proper answer, but none seem real to me. These words are only stones,meant to skip across the…

The Forest is Falling

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another paper saving 55er

Sing for Me

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I am beginning to worry. There is something that they are not telling me. I am afraid that something bad is going to happen.

in that time

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in that time people had gone away and i waited in the inside and looked out on balconies. the ending of the dusk was coming and the details of the railings and brick, the tree branches holding purple plums, the stacked railway ties and a thousand other details became…

specter in transit

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at the front of the bus/ sways a white-veiled woman:/ gnarled hands upon/ a bag of palms,

This page is intentionally left blank.

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