Most recent stories

Sagacious Abridgment

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A cloudy autumn morning greeted Sean as he stepped from the trolley at Grand Central Station. On his way to the tracks he purchased a copy of The New York Times dated October 24, 1934.

Josh and the Elder

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A cruel reminder of his irrelevance to the world of law, a world he had probably ruled for over 40 years.

picture (im)perfect

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not

Looking for Comments

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So do you read my writing?I text youI need to know whatyou like betterThe bloodor the gutsThat's what it is.You see Iput it out therefor you.That's not what it saysbut I know the truth.Am I smart enoughgood enoughdo you think it's crapbecause anyone can like it…

GRIDLOCK

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North of Los Angeles - 210 FreewayWhen Central Dispatch's Gate bot mistakenly set Mongo down in the middle of present day rush hour instead of his cave home in prehistoric Rudy Valley, traffic was, as usual, gridlocked in all directions; a woman in an SUV was on her cell…

Tornado Diary

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The storm grew in might until it spawned the worst kind of tornado, an F-5 or Finger of God.

Late Eulogy

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We wished it had been murder./ It’s easier to hate for hurtfulness/ One you never knew.

The Blood of Giants

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Everything sensed is a drop of experience in the cosmos. Writing brings on the rain.

Wonderland Or Bust

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Alice sat on the edge, her legs dangling in the void...

Someday

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and as in real life, occasionally sneezed on.

Ink on Paper

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Waves like lovers gather and crest, crash into White uncertainty.

Fairy Tale in Dachau

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Certainly leftover cyanide-based Zyclon-B pesticide from the gas chamber was used to purge the lawn of weeds, bugs and vermin. Very efficient. No waste. Perfectly recycled.

Butterfly Man

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Now it was black line, wall, turn, and black line.

Isolation

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Dried swirls of burgundy on the wine glass, sunlight from the wide window glittering from an edge on the stemware lip as she made her entrance, just then looking none the worse for wear, a blessing of youth to hide damage until it shows on the face, especially around…

War Story: Veteran of a foreign war

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"Did you see any action?" I ask, hoping for a story. He points to a scar ripping through the chevron on his left arm but says nothing.

A Thousand Books

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I gave away 1000 books.

Nehwareven

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In the switched-off time of day's blackest rest-

Imaginary Photo Album

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Let me swim into your eyes. Let me show you my world. My album. My Albania. My albumen.

The Edge

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You're riding on the edge The edge of life and death Popping pills Shooting thrills Snorting coke and meth Running fast from it all Heading for a fall Needle in your arm What do you care Who does it harm Looks change at will With each and every pill …

Scooter and Skipper at the Roman Colosseum

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We make our way into the Colosseum–excuse me, the Prince Spaghetti Colosseum–and take in the beauty of Italy’s national pastime; sadistic cruelty to wacko religious cults.

The Color of Silence is Radium Green

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...the teeth she began to lose went under her pillow, though no money ever appeared. She could not bear to throw them away and finally deposited them in her jewelry box next to the string of seed pearls she received on the morning of her confirmation.

Gone With The Wildebeest

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A recent book reveals that nature documentaries are staged. Shocked by such claims we went on location to discover for ourselves the behind-the-scenes manipulations and more. Director: “You'll spot the wildebeest, freeze, and then charge. Okay? And try to bring…

Exquisite Now

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In the exquisite now, I feel everything around me, in me, before and after, I think, I should call you, say goodnight, but I do not, choose instead to write this poem, as though I can capture the magic of what is happening between us in words, A…

We're The Atwoods

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I remember a time when Calvin, my husband, was like Winnie the Pooh and I was a jar of fine Provençal honey. No amount of my sweetness could satisfy his craving for me. He would spread me on his toast with butter at breakfast and mix me with peanut butter

War Story : Alternate Duty

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They say that air traffic control is stressful work and I guess it is for some people. It did require a lot of concentration but that never bothered me much. I could keep the position, bearing and altitude of a couple of dozen aircraft in my head without

Five Million Yen: Chapter 5

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Then he took the tune out to Ben Clarone land. The horn was beautiful, if leaky. His fingers flew over the keys.

Peppercorns

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Fertile bodies eye/ the space you occupy,/ impatient for disappearance.

I Should’ve

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I should've traced my steps. I'm lost in a sea of hyperlinks.

The Artist's Conk

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Whenever talk dies, or darkness gathers too closely around the breakfast table, everyone knows the list of ritual activities we can brightly suggest to skip the day forward.

A Bead Was Lost

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