Most recent stories

Left to our own Dvices

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No one knew why DVices were so hard to find. No one knows for sure anyway.

Tangled Up in Glue

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Shhhh, my husband is trying to write...

August and After Haiku

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The brown grackle chirps/ as she chomps a plump cricket-/ melodious meal.


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I'm in a pediatric emergency roomThere are teenagers who don't want to liveAnd babies who won'tBecause viruses still spread and people won't learnThe election results are coming inAnd somehowFucking somehowUnderqualified, overly bigoted politicians still winUnder the banner…

Being Generic.

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"Why bother?" Her companion muttered something not dissimilar.

Automatically Writ between Meals

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The misspent effort reposed spontaneously, a prank worth ending with the dog letter: “GrrrrrrrR!”

Xmas Story

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The conspicuous police car was conspicuously just ahead.

The Pataphysical Tourist

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We all get in a carriage of tin and volcanic glass and go a-touring. We had quite an itinerary to fulfill, all of it loosely applied to the principle of serendipity. We toured Luxembourg and tossed pretzels to the bankers who did tricks for us, somersaults and complex…

No Wind

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The candle was near the windowsill.It smelled like the musk my father used to spray before he went awayto work.Oh father, I remember you,your chocolate brown eyes,would watch the sunrisebefore breakfast;serious- so serious and waiting for something that…

Van Gogh’s Ear

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A drunken evening, both men soused and twitchy. An argument ensues with Yellow House roommate Paul Gauguin. The two dissing each other’s work like clicking beetles

The Morning

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Dawn is spreading its pink and blue colours over the morning. Pleasant hues, with children playing and birds chattering. A light morning, without commitments, without waves, open to promises. Mornings don't speak our language and don't make the same gestures. They speak a…

The Welder

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For a man with a poor command of English, he managed to describe his recent redundancy with aplomb. “One week, everything perfect; the next week –” He mimicked a noose being fixed around his neck and I sat and watched his eyes bulge.

the wrap

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a whisper of wind

In the Woods II

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The neighbor was a little woman...

The Vote

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God had decided to resign. Not even two weeks notice. He just resigned. Point blank.

Cambridge Vignettes (from the 1960s)

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I wanted none of her. But also that day I had just finished The Story of 0., and my mind was full of sadistic whimsies and the mood of anythingness that the book instills: the pound of fleshness. Anyway, I sneered at her and told her she bored me, and sat

My First Winter in Massachusetts

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My first winter in Massachusetts feels medieval: cold, dark, and endless.

Imaginary Friend

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"Where've you been?" the image in the mirror asked. "I haven't seen you since yesterday," she said. "Yeah, I miss you too," he said.

A Little *PSYCHOTIC* —

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[um ... "howza 'bout another piece of, chocolate CAKE ... ?? #tammyBAKER #tammyBAKER #AYE #AYE ]

Хлебников via странников (+ two tombs from Mallarmé + one more)

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No harp now hails, / no wood sings mirth, no good hawk / swoops through the hall, no swift steed / paws dirt in the castle-yard. Woeful death / has emptied earth of an ancient race.

Last Night I Dated The Universe

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Last night I dated the universe. What a hottie! I arrived on time and was feeling a bit spacey. Look at me, I said. I'm on time. Yeah, well, I invented time. I made sure you'd be here on time. Cool. Where do you want to go? Doesn't matter. Wherever we go I'm already…


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The fire was so fierce,so fair like an opal;the most primal burn."Death haunts these trees,"the woman said, as she held the potof beetroot soup above the fire.They spoke from the basement; living in the dark space,nerves too locked up to to look out the windowand…

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.

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.


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

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. ;) ]