The end of love is a rusty barbed-wire fence.

As it was, she was on a mission to get back and either close the chapter or re- open it on her former lover. Something was curiously drawing her to him. She was frank with the man on the plane. He understood. When they deplaned on the tarmack in a snowsto

The road to heaven is littered for miles with dead sinners, or more precisely, the sides of the roads are lined with crosses on which the sinners are nailed. It has always been so, since time started ticking for Civilized…

I remember another one night stand in NYC with a girl named Marilyn. We’d met up at Bread Loaf Writer’s Conference in Vermont. It was the Summer of Love, and a number of us student writers were planning a trip out to San Francisco to participate in that f

I will watch your teeth measure the highway all the way home.

Random Access Hundred Dollar Bill Burning Question The Black Truffles Open John Queasy Sister Tortoise and the Hair Duck Tail and the Wrap Stiff Resistance Knee Jerk Reaction Tough Cookie Bar Code and the Illusion Erosion Eroti

In suburban Jeddah magnificent houses on every corner of the avenues are surrounded by high walls rising up from just inside the roadside curb to much beyond taller than a man.

Diamonds are for suckers Diamonds are for the miserable at heart Keep that in mind when you are busy Puffing out your chest and Slipping on your dancing shoes We were about to witness the release of souls From the captivity of flames At th

Friday night, a bar downtown, beneath the swirling dots of disco lights, seated at a table by the door, I come across a Cheerleader from my high school days, having a Martini with the Quarterback she married. Even in forgiving light, …

I haven’t written a poem in months.

The bull had flesh of a deep red that turned black where the massive muscles knotted. Colt thought of the way blood turns black when it pools too deep. There was nothing but muscle, an intricate network of coarse fibers woven tightly and wrapped in a thin

My cell phone shakes; it’s my father’s voice calling my name - so far away - with long distance crackle and panic on the line.

I would like to invite the public to an open-air, environmental art piece called Hot Weather. The exhibition will take place this summer. It will not begin until the temperature reaches 90 degrees. This demonstration is available free of charge

When they first met at the bar, right away he was sweet on her. He drove an old oil-burning Buick or Olds, going down the road like a smudge pot. He never kept food in his car, where it would get hot and spoiled. He only picked nice fresh

“So he rounds up three bums and says he'll buy 'em a case of beer if they’ll do a job for him. All they have to do is ride around in a car for his campaign. Of course they all said yes.”