Most recent stories

Shine

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not sure why - we rise

Coins

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I was reading The Transmission of Doubt by Adi Da, and since it was just shy of five hundred pages, I had become tired and needed air. It was funny because Eglington Square Mall had only one floor and was more like a mini mall than anything, with a beer store on…

End of the Cloud

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Somewhere between the bleating of sheep And the laying of eggs Comes the licking of frosting And the eating of the cake We’re not young enough To know everything anymore And you may think there’s no rush But I know this There’s a limit t

and now for the news ...

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nope. no excerpt for you.

Mirrors.

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Pass frame.Avert eyes.If Ido look,I'm stillnot there.

Travel

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I texted a wickety-split, tax-declaring New York-based international escort, a moonlighting, all-pro Kit, whose day job on Wall Street yields no bonus.

Thunderstorms in South Dakota

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it rained so hard it flooded our tent and our sleeping bags were floating

Assiduity Seventeen

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In the darkness, as I awaken, an orange glowing 3:45 greets me . . .

Me and Frisco on the Road

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I don't think I minded so much watching the trucks hit him, one breaking his spine with a decisive snap, and the other finishing the job by splitting his skull. I don't think I minded watching as much as I did watching those two boys poking around at his

The Hero in Heart of Darkness

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Remember the equatorial heat, the flies,/ the lurking hum and scream of jungle,/ the squalor? Remember the functionary.

Time

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The sky was painfully blue that day. So bright, so cheerful that attempting to look at it, to probe its depths would cause one's eyes to tear up. There was not a cloud in sight, just miles and miles of blue as far as the eye…

Grandfather Clock

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On a cold November afternoon I stood in the foyer of Sampson and Sons funeral home and paced silently back and forth across the purple carpet. They have that deep pile and rich color of carpeting that you only really see in a small town…

Ransom

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The Snowman grinned malevolently as the Sugar Plum fairies shook in their tiny powdered boots."Santa has one more hour and then you're all marshmallow toasts!" the Snowman said. He laughed and he laughed. His evil plan? He wanted the key to time delivered to him personally…

Losing It

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The following is a true story, or rather it is a true experience from the story of my life. Some say that just because something happens doesn't really make it "true".

Ghost House

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Twig arms, Send me back then back again. The skeleton of our home Lives above the town

Campbell & Evans

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He laughed – pictures traveled across his mind of bodies and mouths and the sex and the liquor, he could taste the flesh and the alcohol right then, strong, immediate.

Marie - the Waif

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Just let anyone else lay a finger on me or say the wrong thing when Victor is around... He is very protective. I am only to be beaten by him.

Bash

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Luke was in the gutter, his face in stagnant water littered with cigarette butts, condom wrappers, and green shards of glass from broken beer bottles. A man was kicking him in the face with a boot the size of a U-boat, over and over and over again. Blood

Band Names For Sale. Inquire Within

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Mythical Itch and the Unicorns Working Late Jacuzzi Floozy One Erection Diego Rivera’s Poncho Frieda’s Moustache Avalanche Babushka Dolls Photographic Mammary Drool Sir Gruntsalot Uber Rubber Iota Pie Elder Geese Ladylike Rud

Fa La La La La

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A pinprick breaks the black/ and pins the spin of constellations/ around its still point.

And her child

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The mother was happy, though. She was happy because she could make him some soup and then she could feed it to him in bed.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 26

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Ben gagged after shot-gunning the scotch. He hiccupped and it came back up through his nose. He grabbed a napkin and caught most of a shot and a half of Whyte & MacKay as it poured out his nose.

Birds of Prayer: Memoir

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“Is that what six million looks like?” I wondered. I easily grasped the six part. I'd lived that many years. The Star of David had six points. So did each snow crystal.

#30: Bye-Bye (An Excerpt-Poetry)

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This is goodbye,

My Name is Smegma Jones, and I'm a Pussy: A Memoir

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[JESUS LOVES YOU MORE THAN ANYBODY, BUT HE'S DEAD. NO-ONE COULD EVER LOVE YOU AS MUCH, OR YOU THEM, SO DON'T EVEN TRY. HAVE A NICE LIFE! MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!]

Trapping for Poetesses

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So many ingenious traps for catching and hamstringing female poets have been invented that it is a rare editor who ever really sees one. H.L. Mencken

Balls

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Evening was drawing nigh and Mosby's horse had tired from the daylong ride.

Seasonal Poem

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One of the poems in my collection, One Day Tells its Tale to Another, published December 16, 2012. Available on Amazon. My first book!

Sunday Morning Series- 7: Sunday Morning Trifurcation

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Go diddle in the sand// to save some other sinner/ a death of stones.

12.22.12

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No jagged bits of crust were thrust up/ through the prairie’s black gumbo/ to give us cataclysmic mountain views.