Most recent stories

For The Love Of Christ

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A New Notion about an Old Story

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A dark girl, quite poor, maybe three, maybe four, leaned on a statue of a horse and his man. (The rider rode him in place, but as if in a race.) Her dress needed patching, her heart needed smoothing. She'd tried to sell…

Pirate Ship

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I was a disaster at first, a thousand Light years ago. We sail the seas we're given Like all of you, but that doesn't mean we get To survive like you. Our course may have blown us Completely off the map. When that happens you Don't…

Mo Band Names

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Her Majesty’s Glasses Umbilical Chord Linger Finger Okay Inkjet The Dragon Flies Horny Free Spirit Good Footnote Buttery Clams You’reUp Empty Bladder Star Butter Karmic Impulse Mr. On-the-Ve

Johann's Got Dandruff

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Lunch at Luigi's

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Identification both ways was BooBoo, case sensitive.

Stranded on Jamaica Street

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There are horse drawn carriages, gentlemen in top hats, it's the turn of some century, before souls were stored in jars.

Animus and Vitriol

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At some point, we will have to shoot them/ through the eyes and skull and heart


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Val walks through the world, absorbed in the day to day. A plainspoken narrator drones on in his mind. The nondescript voice marks time to the beat of Val's banal footfall, hums along with the whir of Val's modest, midsize sedan. The narration is loudest in the twilight…

Sounds from the Sun

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It was a lovely day all the horrors in deep hiding leaving me, leaving all of us, a chance to wonder why

The Invaders

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“Elaine, what's that bee doing?”, asked Jonathan as he slid his reading glasses down and turned his attention from the morning paper to a bee that had landed on the his Nesbitt's Lime soda bottle. The bottle sat on the small, hand-made table in their back…

He's Just Not That Into You -Part I

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“Too perfect.” my therapist intervenes in assurance, “You did enough, really. More than anyone else would.” I know the subtext is that I possibly did more than I should. My appointment is coincidentally later that day, after his goodbye letter arrives in

Dust to Dust

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Perhaps archaeologists will unearth our bodies and miss our minds.

Not Lao-tzu's Yellow Brick Road, xxviii - xxxvii

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master carvers do not reduce with carving.

Two Weeks in a Dristan Land

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I smelled the bleach of burst anemones the sweet arousal of the Dungeness crabs the seaweed of sour twigs and feces


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Summer nights or frozen winter, the crackles of his black.

Walking With The Moon

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I heard a voice. It was calling me as from a far-off cloud. I listened, holding my breath, and heard it again, though fading away, barely audible. If I hadn't known my name I wouldn't have decrypted it. Three hazy syllables clearly detached with a sigh between each of…


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I couldn’t go downstairs.

Digging a Hole to the China Sea

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Could sampans fall upward, sailing from the bottom of the Earth? If so, which way would their sails bend—up, or down? And would the strange China Sea follow suit? Would salt water geysers spurt from the hole we dug, flooding the streets of Seattle?

Forty Days of Fasting

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Our Last Night at the Nunnery Motel 2.0 in Milano

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They make you work For your pizza in Italy You have to slice it yourself While wearing a gas mask To ward off the cigarette smoke From every neighboring table While chasing away the Mosquitos and the pigeons The flies and the gypsy r

No Future

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Hardaway's Poems Piss Off DC Bigwig

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Gladstone called him a ‘goddam nihilist’--

I Kicked Your Dog

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I kicked your dog, Yes I did, I kicked your dog I kicked your dog Because it urinated on my Afghan rug It bit my maid and it ate my frog It defecated on Shakespeare's sonnet, barked at my psychedelic parrot, salivated over Norman Mailer's bust, snapped at…

Remember the EPA?

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[A short penis of text that will be shown around the site to give readers a taste of your sex drive. If you don't whip it out, we'll automatically use your 8th grade class photos.]


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I am studying the way/ dust bunnies emerge, grow/ and apparently reproduce.

Not Lao-tzu's Yellow Brick Road, xvii - xxvii

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—indistinct and foggy, my eyes lost at sea, confined to a horizon not close to land.

Some Kind of Compass

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if we stare into the dark long enough, we see ourselves at some end or beginning –

The object of my affection....."Red, red wine - Will thy fresh lips ever meet mine"

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"I turned around, a bit startled as I had been brooding for a while and not really noticed that the shop attendant had showed up behind me. I don't know what I had expected, a middle-aged greyish fellow maybe, but this was quite the opposite: A girl in h