Most recent stories

A Quandry

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On the river he rows a dory. It is filling with water. There is a rectangular hole in the bottom.

The Bicycle

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Oh what fun they had riding that bike! What adventures! They went everywhere, in town and out.

Snapshots

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“Do you have a job? Are you going back to school,” I asked, you know, because I’m hip like that.

The Empty City - Chapter 1 - Early Summer

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Every day the trains transported the young and successful and the not so young and less successful who belonged to the five buildings.

PLAYGROUND

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Marie shrugs. “Maybe she’s just late. Come on, let's wait by the jungle gym.” She runs over and starts climbing. The jungle gym is closest to the path that goes into the woods and down into the canyon. She has to get him into the woods somehow.

Fishers of Hope

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June Day sprinted with urgency through the halls of the Armistice. Whenever she passed a window looking out into space, if it wasn't already covered, she didn't bother looking out, but not because of her hurry; no one did anymore. She was young, but the…

Here's Looking at Euclid

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Hoboken memories

Potsdamer Strasse #2

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Beautiful kids in sunglasses dashed around as colourful as jars of mixed fruit in the warm air of a midsummer’s night drinking on the riverbank, the bar sheltered under a crusty wooden shack, the sight was stunning in the twilight before the sun rose.

Suzanne

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And I watched, from her warm bed, the curtains dancing in the window

a girl's mane

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Wild bore the wind down on me, coming out of the heavens that turned around the stars of the evening. The longing and the appetite at work in the body, all tickling to open a girl’s mane, gaping, health-giving crossroads to the body. Hail and farewell t

Centipede

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Five o’clock, and Madame choosing her evening legs. Elizabeth assisting. Elizabeth will continue to assist until midnight, despite the chaos, at which point the authorities will tell her such assistance is no longer necessary.

Blackout

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forsake glass; structure; light; the impermanence of here, or there, or you, or i.

Uncle Harlequin

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My Aunt's husband liked to dress up like a clown

The Weak Force

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So I walk behind Sandra’s desk and I put my radioactive tum-tum right up to her beaded dreadlocks and I tell her about the nuclear energy that is flowing through her right now. She laughs and screams at me the way I am sure her daughter does when someone

Top Ten Reasons Why I Stipple

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Chicks dig dots.

secrets

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Don’t worry about what went aloud. I said nothing.

The Crossing

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His left hand is still clutching the blue Bic lighter in his pocket, rubbing it slowly but firmly. Anticipation is building, filling Theodore up like a combustible gas inside of a too-small container.

The Wolf Who Cried Boy

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The story begins ... There were no pigs' huts of straw or stick or stone.

The Mating Call Of The North American Female Sounds Like The Deep Bellow Of A Birthing Moose

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"...if Rosie O'Donnell were to attach a horn to her forehead, she'd move up the ranks as the deadliest creature in the world."

Mercury Unbound - 7

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a song jolts my memory . . .

Haikus for Miss Winehouse

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Drag queens weep sequins

On Being Bald....

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Hair today...gone tomorrow The sun beats down on my balding crown.

Helmet

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The tiles begin inching toward him as soon as he moves. You've seen filings on glass. He's the magnet on the underside.

Pieces

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I was a whole man once.

Lovely

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I would open an eye, waiting for it to absorb the scant light in the room, and I would see her on the far edge of the bed, the topography of her hips now a battlement to keep me at bay.

Field of Rattle

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He puts the briefcase on the sand and removes a pistol.

Colours

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Not yet confident enough, for example, to feel free to interrupt, to suggest, to demur; not free of his desires his urgency (‘in the morning, fiddle diddle dee, when I rise’)

Where Breakfast Went

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Larry’s unwashed hands held a cardboard sign. Two largely printed words that would, every now and then, elicit a thumbs up. “Got Pot?” was the only question he really wanted an answer to.

Portrait

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Hers or mine? You figure it out, jackass.

Against Romanticism

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And because the film is French, the camera pauses / long moments at the curve of her neck, it watches/ her finger vermilion tulips in a vase. Her new lover,/ a wisp of a man, looks good in leather./ The camera pans quickly across beige suede,/ rests long