Most recent stories

When I was little

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I was little, very little, when Happiness went away. I moved the entire earth, walked in the ferns, poked in the river. Happiness had disappeared. I looked to the sky. I remember, the sun had the porous face of an orange. Not unlike my skin. My eyes fixed above, I saw it…

This Can't Be All There Is

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to the bird in your hand. And my heart still hasn't died. This can't be all there is, doing anything by the numbers. And still my heart continues to fold out with the hidden detailed instructions for you. This can't be all…

Peak Performance

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“It's not like a lobotomy at all,” Dr. Esther said. I could hear the frustration in her voice. I had interrupted her to say that the procedure she was describing sounded an awful lot like one, and that I knew about Frances Farmer and that Kennedy sister that…

Teenage Diplomat

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Lingering Over Language

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The mornings he comes in

Lost Keys

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The most unoriginal, trite and hackneyed story ever written!

The Song Left in Me

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The sky’s on fire with existence When I’m around you Your wandering kisses enter my soul But your quiet beauty may be What really carries you It is like Finding and touching the Pearl of existence To be near you Was that your tattoo

There Were Giants In Those Days, and the Wickedness of Men

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We laugh at them, parading two-by-two, the elephants rolling tail to trunk across the makeshift gangplank, wide slats flexing under their sway. A pair of snakes contemplates gulping a pair of frogs and their clandestine movements stun a cricket and his mate. Birds squat…


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At fifteen...


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The year begins well here with much needed rain and tee-shirt temperatures.

Aphorisms and Asides on States of American Fiction

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The second anniversary of Quillette's 7 January 2020 piece “National Book Foundation Defines Diversity Down” (byline: Kevin Mims) is upon us. The piece seems not to have been overread or much remembered over the interim . . .

Yeopim Pork Men

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The trio stuffed their grilling equipment in a battered van and left for Dixieland Speedway at 4:30 am.


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Much reincarnation

think about it

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they say it's the holiday season they've been saying this for a very long time


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My grief is made up of Demons fighting to Claw their way first Out of my eyes

Good (Enough)

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Maybe I am good

'How I Came To Find Out I'm Like Thomas Pynchon and Bruce Sterling' by Jon Bon Jovi, King of America!

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In Plastic

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I'm more ash now than cigar.

Silent Valley

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Jerry pulls back the throttle and squints through the window of the cockpit at the little abandoned village below. “Silent Valley,” he says in a voice-over style like in the promotional videos. The quietest place in the Western Hemisphere.”The huts…

Tiny Window

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I remember the living room heater

Hotels (an excerpt)

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“Snobs,” our head housekeeper Denise called them in her deep voice, while peering out from under her glasses at me.

A Word About Everything

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I remember having a beer once And feeling like a minor god And I know in some lie you told Your life began making sense And I also know that the mind likes logic But the heart loves chaos I just hope flies land on the butter of your soul

No One Was Watching

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What happens in life when no one is watching?

Express Lane

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The Guy Behind Me only had one item. And he looked too young to fully grasp Loneliness.

The World of Willy Gregg

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Death threats? Just another mumbling day in the world of Willy Gregg.

O'Hare International Peoplewalk Tunnel

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At step blinding speed we all alight somewhere in the world

I Bought New Candles

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The candles and my brain flame like a torch


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Unless we see it, probe it, Name it, star by star, and feel This awful, tenuous gratitude.

Just Another Plebian — Err, Philistine!

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I hate your guts.

substance shadow spirit

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ride crests and troughs of ceaseless change, / without delight but without fear, / and once it’s time to leave, then simply go, / without regret, with no unseemly fuss.