Most recent stories

Fair-Weather Best Friends Forever

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“How scared?” Mikey said, not wanting to find out, and already looking pretty nervous.

Notes Via The Coffee Shop

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Biscuits and gravy. I'm off today, I'm lazy.

After this last death,

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After this last death, I lose at musical chairs. Rough strangers shove me toward the carved door. Feeling fierce, I yell, “Don't push me!” House racked with noise, smells, rushing, I turn the…

Retire! Dance! Die! But First, Pass the Chocolate. Boomers According to Google.

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Born in 1954, I identify as a Baby Boomer. But what does that mean, really? Who exactly are we Boomers? And how does the world see us? I decided to perform a quick Google Search and find out. I typed in the phrase “Boomers Are…” Here's…

The Sugar-Free Scent of Today

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Should have washed our hands, we thought after, licking sugar-spit and dirt.

Trombones and Figs

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“What are you doing, Maestro?"

13 imaginary friends

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1. He had thirteen imaginary friends. They knew him better than his mother did.2. His imaginary friends were all born of a cat on the night of a blood moon.3. His imaginary friends had grey skin and red eyes, giving them the appearance of dead people. Their cheeks flushed…

The Planet Will Be Fine without Us

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The planet will be fine without us as it was/ when the Permian extinction made the goo/ that made the Rockefellers wealthy.

Everything I Need To Know About Aging I Learned From Lilikoi

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Behold! Passion fruit!Aureolin sun condensedRolls off palm and tongue.Spurn taut rounded skinWait for wrinklesRipeness revealed, resplendent —The pinnacle of worth.

Extract from my Fantasy book

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Lucien ran through a burning vortex in desperation ignoring the cries of his friend. It was a flux of Satanic majesty. The floodlight of the fire was incredibly grim, but it did not hurt his eyes. Have you ever seen painted glass windows in a cathedral built by the…

Mathilda Is Not My Girlfriend

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Some idiot was gonna let a snake eat him. I know, but I saw it on the internets. That's some dumb-assed stuff right there. Everyone knows about snakes. The Jesus book tells us all about them, inside us, slithering through ruby-red and eating our guilt from inside out.…

Action she feels as folly, I respond

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Once a friend asked me to write about rape in an email, so I wrote that it is a weapon of war that would not work here because partners do not give in to it; in fact, they would say it is infidelity in relationships.

What I Did For Pho

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Once upon a time there was a Vietnamese restaurant. And then there were two, and four, and eight...

Breakfast for Ten

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Chuck woke when he smelled cooking.

Wings

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He knows I talk to angels, what he would call angels. I don’t talk to him.

Broken Night

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Could I really seduce and rob a total stranger -- just on a dare?

Ymir

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Ymir used to be a big nothing;Now he's everything.His hair is the grass, the trees, the reedsHis scalp is the desertHis skull is the empty vault of spaceHis brain is telecommunicationsHis skin is a reality made of matter and miragesHis forehead is the Ten CommandmentsHis…

Tootsie Roll

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I can’t decide whether I want to be buried or cremated when I die.

Novemberku

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Dark day.

The Sticky Platypus of Love, the Novelists' Battle for Sedative Peace

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Let there fly the sticky platypus of love, resplendent beak of the sleek.

No Thanks

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But although her culinary plans are running smoothly, my mother’s mood is lethal. Look closely and you can see thin plumes of smoke escaping from her mouth and the tips of two horns peeping between the rollers on top of her head. This is not uncommon for

Oklahoma, 1944: Howard Hughes Spends the Night in Jail

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There's a drain in the floor.

The Albatross

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Gigantically heaping past the dawn, White rider, swinging circles into light, Do you cross the spar-lengths of meridians, O albatross, conspirant of the thought The sea dreams of its relic mastery? Rainbowed reliquary of…

Desert

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Tonight’s concert was called Desert.

Thanksgiving Carnage

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The game is set, thirty pound gobbler at the center; brined, browned, and buttered to perfection. The players take their places around the table: Reagan’s_Disciple and BraBurner38 sit at the head seats, eyeballing each other over a fizzing bottle of dom

Jack's

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We're not here for idle chit-chat, or ESPN, or fish tacos.

He's Grieved Long Enough

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My stepmother called me an amoral virgin during our latest "disagreement."

Book Review: Cinema Verite’ a book of poems by Sam Rasnake

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Cinema Verite’ is the best book of poems I have encountered since Matthea Harvey’s Modern Life

Atom

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Devour my horror, embrace it as yours

There Was a G.I. - January 1970

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was beaten in the back of the brig.