Most recent stories

Self Portrait Without Colors

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I am the ritual/ banalities of days numbered,/ numberless, and numb.

Abandonment and Abundance

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I’m living at the Edge of Graffiti And yet I still survive Because I walked across the line Separating me from the rest of mankind You can see me out here I’m in so much pain All that’s written on my face I think it’s pretty plain

Let’s Swing

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You don’t want to tango with me, she said.

Out the Window

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she lifted and threw her legs out the open side front window of the speeding auto

like rain

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This is your mystery, your story Full of beauty and all-encompassing loveA brushstroke washes the canvas cleanYou start over with a new directionDreaming of me as you paint your wordsWriting just like Keats, Shelley and BrontëAbout sorrow, rain and the wheels of passion

Visitation

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We sat up in bed. It's ‪two o'clock‬ in the morning. Blinding circular flashlight beams probe through the half pulled shades. Magnified black silhouettes of men's torsos lumber back and forth in the yard. We are in a fishbowl and being invaded.

I Don't Understand Poets

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I haven’t read many of them, these poets that they speak of – Whitman and his Leaves Of Grass, Mary Oliver and her wild life

True Stories About False Dancers

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The world is a mighty funny place. It spins wildly and we are held down by its strong ghostly gravity. We're still able to communicate with one another over morning coffee and delicious cake donuts dipped in chocolate. Some of us used to keep…

the cold envies whom?

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cold plunges its lethal chill spade/into the dirt before cold takes the earth/to ossify it stiff with ice/the semblance of cold the semblance of death/said only to be felt this side of the grave.

BLT

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I had a sister-in-law who was a licensed nutritionist. Not sure what “licensed” means, but she had some certificate and worked in a hospital. Hospitals! Places not known for their cuisine, much less their nutrition. —So, what do you…

Old Church Slavonic

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Because it seems never to be beginning, always picking up in the middle with it’s long resonant tones, which themselves begin as if they’ve always been. Maybe that’s why we love old, sacred music. And by we I, of course, mean my two-year-old Charlie and m

the wall

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Looking at an image of a graffiti on a wall on our computer screen we ask ourselves: what is the image's main graffiti-like property? We might answer: its location. But that is a contextual and political interpretation. There's nothing in that answer which addresses the…

Dongs

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[YOU BETTER BE READY FOR THIS!]

Flurry

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If I had slept a little longer, I/ would not have seen this rarity at all.

Kitchen Fruit Fly Suicides

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How the hell do these 1/8 inch long red-eyed flying insects wind up in my kitchen anyway?

world's a mess

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until i french kiss every atmosphere my mouth ready to explode like roman candles sparking my fingers sparking off the tips of my sparking fingers

You, me, now, then

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If I seemed disappointed after our conversation, then, for the record, that was never the case.

Slammer

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“Please, please grant me probation and a deferred sentence with no time behind these walls. I have never had a driving ticket before. NOW one Margarita and a DUI. Never again!”

Dead Girl Rolling

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They left me on a gurney for hours...

the new path

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once he had planted Lucille things changed./his emptiness rivalled the hollow grave/dug for her . . .

Year End Close-out

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Strauss does all the stirring at the start./ The rest is all murk and meander

The Country Star

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He’s got horns and a tail I found him on sale He’s got snake in his DNA Evil in his eye And plenty of chicken pot, chicken pot Chicken pot pie But he sure can play piano With those giant lobster hands In his ratty raccoon coat And his

CRITERIA

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“I’ve gotta take a break from this,” Hector said. “I’m not feeling inspired right now. I’ve added about a thousand words. Why don’t you look it over and put your changes in?” “I can do that,” said Martin. “Impressive! That brings us up to nearly sevent

Upon a Time

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then all crawl out from the wreckage to begin a dance lasts all night so by morning we'll be tired surprised we're still upright

New Year's Eve, 1975

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contacts, false eyelashes, strappy open-toed sandals

Jump-start

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"I don’t know what to do. I need to catch the 11:30 train, but what is the difference between doing it today or tomorrow?"

Gifts for Bonnie & Charlie

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Jojo dolls & basketballs a mindflex & pick-up sticks Parcheesi and—no, not Parcheesi a supersoaker, a Care Bear

Beating

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Season's felicitations!

the custodial cats of the fulcrum of memory + three

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“the calendar of my future was in there!”/ yes: all tomorrows belong to the dead cats,/ their decisions relinquish one day per day.

Tracks

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When dogs run free