Most recent stories

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

Anhedonia

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“When he felt most loved, he felt most _ burdened.” Stephen Dobyns When she loved him she burdened him. She knew he felt a pull but he always resisted it. They went to an old refurbished hotel in Venice and asked if they might see the rooms. …

Night and Day

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The muezzin calls the faithful, his voice soaring over the rooftops, over the trees and the brooks,

The Silicon Chamber

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Why did he seek punishment, if he felt no guilt? Why this empty conscious, though he had done such evil?

Strayhorn's "Chelsea Bridge" (Webster/Mulligan)

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The chorus is a melancholy enlightenment; this is all I have, he thinks, the only transcendence I’ll get out of this day. I should seize it while I can.

Mercury

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At 11 pm, it is 87 degrees and I sit in front of the air conditioner, eating oatmeal. The oats aren't soft enough, but it is sugary and fills me. Outside, the city hovers at the edge of a brown out, people sweating hopelessly inside small boxes. In Utah, it was cold…

Gemma's Story

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I respect mom, she survived cancer and all while she was pregnant with me, but something about getting through all that crap made her heart tough, like an over-cooked piece of beef, and no one likes meat you have to chew forever.

Until Again

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Methuselah. That’s what they call him, the regulars that ride my train. Other things too, but Methuselah is the one that sticks in my mind. It seems to fit. It’s not as cruel.

Tap Dancing to Voltage

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Tap shoes are the portal to the opening of heavens that will ignite me with the highest voltage of electricity, give me the gift I was meant for at birth. Prophecy.

Sisters

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The gun is heavy. The tiny women hold it in both hands.

Buoyancy

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When I ate with my girls, Bliss and Victoria, I would lift my head up and look at us eating until I could imagine him chiding me. “Our daughters are looking more and more like you each day,” he’d say. “Fat!” I didn’t feel like eating when I thought abo

My Voyeur Life

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It's the way an earnest five-year-old boy pronounces every single letter as he whispers. Something about octopuses, something else about peas.

V-J Day

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August 14, 1945.Vincent had kissed a lot of girls before then - and a lot of women after. But there had never been a kiss like that one. And because of that photo apparently the whole country, damned near the whole world, thought so too.He'd tried to get her…

Four Noble Lies

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When Carlotta left me, I cried / into my soup. I shriveled into / harsh mathematics.

Penny Candy

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Thank you for the flip book with the woman dancing, bird wing elbows, knees this way and that.

Babies

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“Your brain, your brain tries to make sense of things like this, specially life-threatening weird shit, so in my mind the grass was on fire and driving out swarms of invisible bees that were stinging us to death. Invisible killer bees. You don’t shoot be

To the Folksinger Just Arrived

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Whisper salutations to your irises

GULLS, GULLS, GULLS

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"The shipyards of the soul do not exist." The Colussus has always been a colossal waste, and the riddle of Your Father's Identity confounds no one but yourself. What a riddle, what pills! He was known for…

Tuesday Night

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She comes in with her white bag with its floral patterns scattered, almost accidentally, all around it

Second Collage

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B developed a thick emulsion that he paints onto the pieces of meat on which he prints photographs.

The Human Car Wash of Self-Esteem

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It was one of those dinner parties where everyone had had a little too much to drink, and the conversation around the table had grown more . . . shall we say, spirited.

Madison Court House

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I call beauty to me With the architecture Of this place Beauty that has no doubt Been pulled to me All its life

Night has yet to break its fever

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Even the neighborhood houses show their sunburnt faces and symptoms of heat stroke in the glow of their night lights.

the long white cloud above my body

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Butter me up, moon lover. Remember, I was once your warm and hot goddess of flowers, washed to shore with the others you may have forgotten. Now the issue of the earth gets nearer, and we can see each other once again, if only in our dreams. Just be

The Industrious Mice

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I am not responsible for any nightmares this piece may cause for all you mice lovers!

Joe Wheeler

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Bearded massage parlors of dissonance whittle away hours for a few dollars and cents