Most read stories

The Heart Does Not Know What It Cannot Have

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“I take him to see all those sexy movies,” she said, “because it puts the passion back in him. I love what he does to me when we get back home after those movies.”

Girl Trouble: A Novella in 3 Stories

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She was the darling girl, the blond with the great ass, the small tits and the flashing green eyes who could quote poetry, who wanted to be a singer, who collected fireflies in glass jars, hoarded pieces of broken jewelry, and watched heat lighting dance

Snapshots

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Jake remembers that Amy told him once that she thought that somehow he would always be a part of her life. That was before she went to Spain and married an American bull fighter.

Nothing in the World (an excerpt)

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All night the moon had watched him, and he’d been unable to return its stare. Finally there was sunlight, and Joško took up his rifle and rucksack. He had trouble keeping his balance at first, but gradually his legs steadied.

Rocky Mountain Oysters

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“They’re Rocky Mountain Oysters,” the blond said. “Fresh. You’ll absolutely love them Jim.”

What Ever Happened to Old Tom Joad

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Someone hollers Okie.

Dinner at La Maison Bouche

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The knife that precedes the bigger knife that precedes the spoon that precedes the flat fork, with stuff like that I'm all butterfingers, & even though he's never been to Italy except once to shoot a gun when the world was a great big jumble, he remembers all…

Eager To Please

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She didn't care for the taste. Slightly salty and sweet at the same time, but she let him come in her mouth just the same

Fake Letter: From Your Gay Son

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Dear Mom, You told me the connection between a mother and her son is like no other connection. You carried me for nine months. You scheduled visits with the doctor; you thought and discussed and re-thought and re-discussed with dad what my name would be; you…

We are the rising

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I’m sick of you headless muffuckas searching for a facelift.

Let me tell you about the smell of the rain.

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You are lonely. Let me tell you about the smell of the rain.

Ode to a Crow

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We walk in silence. We water our plants. We don’t eat as well as we should. We try to love. We try to forget.

The Bottle

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That bottle just sits there in the closet, next to the hats and a box full of old gloves. Years it’s been there. Try as we might, we never open it. We just don’t have a damn thing to celebrate. Who was it brought that bottle into our lives and went and ruined …

Michael & The Reaper

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That sound. Bone against bone. Skin across skin. Blood fraying into the unknown dark. He loved that sound.

Stories from the War

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He didn’t know how to tell his story. It wasn’t an easy story to tell. There certainly was a clear beginning, but it didn’t make much sense to start at the beginning. There was no way to end the story either; the ending seemed to last forever.

Spring Cleaning for Poets

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“Can you do something about that those four stanzas of three lines each at the bottom of the basement steps?” my wife asked. "That's a villanelle I'm working on."

Never Been Down to Lonely Street

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“This is not turning out to be a wholesome project,” my brother hissed into the phone one night. “Yo, Alan, it’s ELVIS. It’s American gothic, and the child needs to know the underbelly of the myth,” I hissed back.“Did you, or did you not, wear makeup to

Broken Bulbs - Chapter One

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And here I am again. I chew my nails. I tap my foot. I chew my nails. I sweat. I bleed. My nose bleeds. It drips. I drip. I'm dripping through my chair.

How We Send to Anderbo

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She's always sitting in a soft chair watching television with little stars dotting her elbows and lightning bolts on her wrists.

The Thirteenth Sign

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I'm twelve again and

The Illusionist

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All week my crew and I waited for the snuff party. An obscure fete where someone gets killed strictly for the entertainment and viewing pleasure of others. Before you judge us know this, people die every day for no reason at all.

Story

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For two days, I bashed out words with grimacing fingers, wrenching images from my whining consciousness – a weak, lumbering, uninspired piece – and now for what?

Veld fire

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The crackling inferno sweeps across the ground Devouring all in its scorching path

Old Wounds

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We got married in a hospital. My bride had her appendix out the day before our wedding, so we decided to tie the knot in her room at Hoover Memorial.

You Friend Me On Facebook

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You look just like your mom she says I LOL her and say, funny cuz you look just like yours

Raft of Worms

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I learned to love what we had: the long, bright days, the water all around us, and even their slithery bodies, which somehow never dried under the pounding sun.

Animus and Vitriol

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At some point, we will have to shoot them/ through the eyes and skull and heart

On Writing about Velveeta

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You are fishing in a coffee cup. (Your fishing pole is a record player.)

Coming Through the Rye

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As I stood in my mother’s closet with my niece Chloe, and read the letter aloud, I was shocked to discover I had shared with my mother details about my love life.

Sugarfoot Pond

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i was jus countin' your heartbeats, Emmie and you know what? i think they's the same as mine!