Most recent stories

A Universal Tendency of Debasement in the Sphere of Love

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Night Patrol

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residue of production

A Girl and Her Trees

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The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle. Fall was near, a rotten apple.

Eat a Banana today, Save a Friend Tomorrow

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Even if it's true, I've seen you dance, you brought me so high, you were flying. I've watched as you danced the good necessary medicine right into a room. It came from your feet, not your lit up head. Your name is such a lovely melody. I've…

Commercials About Reviving Flowers

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The last sip of my dry (very dry and dirty) gin martini tasted like a crude motor oil.

Finger Weaving a Voyageur Sash

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. . .and still wild roses star far fields the same.

The Caracol, a snapshot

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waves assaulted black volcanic rock in briny harmony

Night Letters from the Underground

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As ghosts, they became lovers. Rodion would strum the Underwood keys like a balalaika. Lizaveta would sing.

Not Being Arnold Schoenberg

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Maybe he deserved it.


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When the compost thaws the past oozes out into the present....

The Message

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On the gravel in front of my feet lies a small piece of paper folded in four. I pick it up and unfold it. I see letters — a foreign word perhaps. I fold it again and let it warm up in my hand. Sitting now near the lamp, I put on my glasses and scrutinise the…

I'll Show You God

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...the room was filled with a brightness and a breeze, making you think you were up in the clouds.

The Tale of a Fat Ugly Crow on a May Afternoon

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a fat crow rapturously caws over its good fortune... not a morsel left on the street, not even a bloodstain

Nervous-WRECK *VEEK*

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[Scumbag scumbag ― fuck you!!! Stop reading this it's my private JOURNAL!!! Thanks. ;) ]

A Borrowed Barrow

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It was a battered, creaky, rickety old thing, this wheelbarrow. It had two wooden handles with cracks running through the wood, a fat rubber wheel and a deep tray encrusted with the mud and plaster and grout that it had transported through decades of heavy use. Based on…

Nostalgias and Anachronisms, Past and Present

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Thus does time fly and we with it. Because time flies on the cosmic scale, curious things inevitably occur in local circumstances.

Tying Flies

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He plucks the feathers and winds thread to simulate an insect’s torso.

This Poem Has No Title

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...Or perhaps it has; It depends which way you look at it. Perhaps the reader may cite laziness As my reason for not titling this Any other than I would have done As now, with such a title As it has, since for some reason I never…


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If she weaves words that are true enough

Late July

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The cicadas struck their soundsTheir ribs made a clicking drumThe sound was formed over buckling ribsvibrations sounds like a maracas bangle beatingShe sat up in a lounge chair trying to sleepThe tiny ants she found tickling her armThey crawled from some hole…

That Pill

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It’s good to have some, Extra weight - Something they can Grab on to, In the sheets, When it’s late-


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a few Hershey's Kisses tucked in with the note


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Some nights now I sit at my window

The Time Traveler

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My work is not that sexy and glamorous kind of time travel that you see in the movies with Deloreans and phone booths.

I Must Want it. No, I Must Need It.

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She rubs her head into mine...

On the Deeper Slants of the Universe

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Everything makes sense.


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I rang the doorbell. Claire opened the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I opened my arms to give her a big hug. She stiffened and pulled away. Stunned, my lips parted, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say. Ideal, Phillis. ”Broken”, Pure

The C.I.A. is trying to kill my GRANDMOTHER!!!

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Don't forget to fuck me. Blow me. Suck me. Don't forget to fuck me. [REPEAT 2X]

Who Was This Guy

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Luke and Diane sat at a round white table looking around the room. There were clusters of people forming an archipelago of cordial exchange and small talk. All but a few were strangers, friends and family of his sister-in-law Mary, now a widow, though the word sounded…