Most recent stories


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So how do I know all this about Sammy, you ask? I’m getting to that...

tiny feet

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she loves what she does and does it well

Notes for a wip: Among the Missing

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To reassemble a life, you first have to identify the parts.

A Moth

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No one looks to seeif we're still aliveany more. Off to see the world seems like such a long time now.You're on another ship, but there's onlyone ocean. What we said we'd do, does itmatter to you? Thedifference you made,seems to me not fair at all.…

Barely Spring

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On a business road

Thoughts While Hovering Over an Ironing Board - OR - STEAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS

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Pushing the "surge of steam" button has latelygiven me a feeling ofpower;I push a button anda loud gurgling sounddampens the spiritof even a 100% cotton item,and forces it to be still andstraighten out.I need a button likethis to affect family and friends.The phone…

The Yellow

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One day, a year or more from now, I’ll really see it.

The Page Turner

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Her hands are swift and supple as swallows, bouncing off the keyboard in rapid-fire constellations of notes, because she's playing Bach's Concerto no.1 in D Minor, which is busy and prodigal and all over the place. She is Polina Olegovna Osetinskaya, a beautiful Russian…


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Jim's Request

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I never liked Jim Flowers. He always seemed to me like a cheat, a liar, and a fool, not to mention that he had the best luck I’ve ever seen put into action. He was proof that in the natural order of things, there is no justice.


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“You know this is your death car.”


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The girl went outside her door and stood and stared at the sky.there were clouds in the sky. the girl wore glasses with black framesthe girl stared at the sky some more and put on a bright yellow baseball hatshe sat in a white resin chairthe girl sat quietly and watched the…


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(Sung to the melody of "Ghostbusters")When your prose is weakMetaphors clichésWho you gonna callGhostwriters!Characters they speakNot much to sayWho you gonna callGhostwriters!I ain't ‘fraid of no rejectionI ain't ‘fraid of no rejectionLyin' in your bedImagination soarsWho…

Fire Skates

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Fire skates ascended out of the Skyscraper State _________________.

Wacky at Work.

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["Why can't we just look the other way ... ?"-Interpol, on the radio]

Star-eater; a poem

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Star-eaterHere lies the star-eater.Tilting on the ancient wheelof summer-glaze-breath,you speak the oceans. Fire's the mealfor you, the star-eater. You defy death,and out of your mouth, a universe openspouring forth, as fleet as the starslight on your tongue. Space…

My Hollows

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Let me say these words now


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The River

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The sinuous river of your childhood. Do you remember how it slid between your young legs before winding away, making its lively and bubbly sounds. You would have made it light-headed with your games and screams. When you lingered late in the afternoon after school, and you…


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"... he with much to teach, I who had much to learn..."

My Summer Vacation

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Apple is apple plum plum that is a kiss without a tongue

There’s No Peace In The World

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Then there was the time I splurged, hoping a higher-priced phone might keep me from slamming it against the wall.

A Chosen Voice

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While the shadows of lives that once were still hid away, others who survived tried to stand on their own two feet and walk the distance again and tell what happened and what it was all like.


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She knew that she was bland and overweight and dull; that what was beautiful in her was locked away like a tiny maiden, far, far away in a tower, too difficult to find or reach. She must face her lot, grateful for her family and her work.


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Paul and Mary Jo lived in an apartment at the top of a long, dark flight of stairs that were so high, I remember as if it were yesterday thinking, the night she pushed him down the stairs, he would surely be dead by the time he hit the landing at the…

a prayer for lambs

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unsteady, they try to rise


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Not for the short attention span

Trees and Strangers

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The summer I was eleven years old....

with and without absent lines

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Across the vacant vanished . . .