Most recent stories

Shut Up and Dance or "Greensleeves", In Its Way, Was Once a Pop Song

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The catchy tune and cloying lyrics/ nonetheless etch their patterns

I Did Not Write This

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PhD's in remorse. Babes without eyes. Presbyterian church-goers baked in their pies. Miss prim-and-propers stranded on meadows. Men rescuing cats then queuing for medals. I did not write this, I swear I did not write this. Saurian…

It Started When My Cheek Absorbed A Mean Left Hook

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Describe my origami, the shape of a gun or a limp dick, or maybe a flower.

Decision Mountain

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For decades the land the village sat on had switched its allegiance between two countries.

air

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i flew

The Trust-Funders Take Over the Loser Cafe

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It was time to go sit outside in the sunlight with the gang of trust-funders, just to see what was new in the world of high finance and falling stock prices. “So, what's happening with the economy in China?” I asked. And they just stared at me as if I had

The Game

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"We're practicing," she signs, "for an earthquake."

Light

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"You gonna be old before you're old," my father had told her.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 19

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—Michiko, are you allergic to cats?

Arcana Magi Pure Vol.5 - c.2

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Emi paced back and forth, fixing her jacket out of nervousness. The cool breeze crawled around her skin and she shivered.

Fatherhood 101

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The instructor moved over to the whiteboard and wrote in big block letters “FOOTBALL” and then crossed it out. “You should just never treat your newborn like a football. That means no passing it or punting it.

Citronella Socks

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a cat named email..

Portrait of a Dead Princess

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Extrapolate, interpolate/ to add imaginary flesh// to fragmentary bones.

Concubine from a Japanese Garden

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Conjuring white five-pointed stars. Irreproachable as Winter.Consonant with a new moon. Rising like an anchor.Not one to walk behind. No destinies touch your charities.None signal your transparencies. Shedding words like skin. Cantillating…

When the Songbirds Went Silent in Cheerytown

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What happens to a town when all of its songbirds go on strike?

Kitty Cat

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Even word dancers need rest.

What You Choose to Take

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You first hear about the wildfire on the old kitchen radio.

My Name is William Hurt and I Am a Movie Star

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Not to sound too ridiculous, but Hurt was giving me the hurt, and it felt good.

X

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We draw a treasure map in the sandwait for the waves to wash it awayI ask you not to leave me stranded hereIf I'm bound for hell, I don't want to be left behindThe sun breaks through the edge of infinityspills over the line, soaking the sky…

Thunder Snow

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A farm girl raised on fresh eggs and weather forecasts...

Blind Revolutions

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String, the matriarchal skiesover iron pastures,cyanide and honey. So silent stay the locusts,what mourning there callsto we who shy from sleep? Summer snow here hesitates,for a second still,not for any age. And still is alwaysstill, as the rain is,but the darkness ever…

Away From the River

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Tiny poem

Nan Sequiter

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there was no mess she couldn’t manage, / no chaos she couldn’t tame.

The Pigeon Savior

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The window washer started saving pigeons whose feet were wrapped in fine black thread, the result, he informed me, of picking through trash bins. They are very intelligent, he went on to explain. (Right, trash bins, I thought to myself.) People tend to av

On Being From the Dirty South, While not Considering Myself a Redneck

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How to not be a redneck? Basically, it is a matter of volume, ancestor worship, respect for the truth and a command of the English language.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 18

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She was dressed to seduce one man: Francesco Martinelli.

Always / Never

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"... A set of vertebrae disintegrate and a woman falls face first into her dinner plate."

The Note

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... “All power is just behind your belly. Look. Knot of belt – just in front of navel – navel is eye of chi.” ...

Orbital Mechanics/ National Poetry Month 2014/ 30 poems

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Captain Nemo never died./ He cruises all the seven seas/ below the waves in Nautilus 2,

Warning! Please Read this Before Adopting a Pet

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One evening I came home late from work to find my wife drinking white Zinfandel by the fireplace in the living room and reading Wallace Stevens poems out loud to the dog, curled at her feet.