Most recent stories

In My Father’s House There Are Many Murders

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My father said that he had been ready for that journey for many days past and that he had asked often for the spirits to come and take him. He prayed to the god of the heavens and to the earth mother. He prayed for the three of us, and he prayed for the s

Home Land

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At times we rarely desire to be where we are at home quite as much as we desire to be where we are no longer.

That Crazy-Ass Willy Wonka Boat

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I was crouched under a bruise-purple sky on a field of battle. I held a World War I-era weapon, an ancient black-iron spear with a spring, and I was told to load balloons onto it without popping them, and then I was to fire the balloons at some unnamed ta

I'll be Home for Christmas - 2

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Warning: contains sexually suggestive comments.

Lips unsealed

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They had a vague idea of how lips were to be used. Lips that parted feverishly, lips that burned. Lips - old, but still amateur. It was no wonder, considering that 'boys from good families' would never dream of even looking at a woman, let alone kiss her!

aren't we having fun?

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I had a dream and in it a small deer came to the side of the road and licked the salt from my wounds. I was lying beside you in a ditch, after crawling out of a smashed car (maybe your pal Jackson Pollock was driving.) We were just kids, really, not muc

Kill Allan

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I still want to kill Allan, because he now is unseen

Charlie's Travels

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Charlie Hancock missed the bus. Started walking.

There are Grandmas and there is my Grandma.

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Last night Grandma got her walker stuck in the snow almost up to her tits. I feel the mark of a dutiful grandson is to come to her aid. And I always do. Even though she usually gets back home at 2 00 a.m. — or maybe 3 — sometimes she's late and we worry but I…

our bodies were melting into each other

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I had a dream about you once. I don't know if I told you about it already or not. (If I did, I apologize.) I'm never quite sure who you're writing about in some of your stories (maybe a composite of everyone?) but I did hold you one more time. In my dream

Silent Night

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The church of the self.

At the Brooks Brothers Hip Hop Summit

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I pat my pocket to make sure everything’s in order; a Starbucks blueberry scone to sustain me, a $50 Brooks Brothers gift card from my in-laws, and my “piece”–a fully-charged BlackBerry handheld device.

Warm Sand And Black Heaven

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He met her at midnight just off the plane and they sized each other with silent growing awareness that no matter what might transpire in distant tomorrows, each served here now as passports to magic and lands far away. On the…

Chinese Jacks

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"Carl, do you think we can fit all of our furniture into that red house?" Jeanne asks. She wonders how easily you could burn a red house down, if a claw foot tub will melt or be left standing in a field of black grass. He reaches for her hair, the dizzy smell…

The Z Gates

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Sometimes you get the upgrade you deserve.

Flying Into The Danger Zone

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Before I take on any client, I need to know why exactly you need the services of a professional wingman. It’s hard to admit to your failures, especially when it involves your penis.

Shakespeare's dead, and so is Homer

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I remember one time I was downtown when this little old lady came up to me at a café, looked in my face, and said, “You know what?” I was surprised she was even speaking to me, a young blonde girl sitting alone at a restaurant, with the shadows play

writer’s block

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round & round this empty block again & again i go

The Little Room Where We'd Fit

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She asked if I needed to be measured for size “to make sure they feel really good on you,” her lips all gloss and smile. I was nineteen and knew my size but changes in weight had caused fluctuations before so maybe I'd be different…

How I Invented the Designer Jean in 1968 (Memoir)

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Before I was 18 years old, in my small home town of Bridgewater, Nova Scotia, Canada, I invented the designer jean...

Sufficient

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She used to think of him as someone to entertain with charming lies, but things evolve in unexpected ways.

Yes You Can--Buy My Book of Bad Poetry

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America has given birth to many great poets--Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, Muhammad Ali--but why should talented people have all the fun?

The Golden Moment

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I wait for the small gap of time where the note vibratos into nothingness...

Same As You

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What would people say about me? He was immoderately adrift. Maybe pathologically narcissistic. A shame he dumped Gina, the best he ever did. In essence, a man-child.

conversations with the psychic

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She told me in all my past lives I’ve always been a woman, and I was stuck in this relationship and you weren’t coming back, so I should just move on and get over it. I was a little sad, but yeah, I knew I was going to go back to her one more time, just

The Prompter

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Here is a not remembering

Advice To A Young Poet

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Touch these words with your mind. They will create an elephant with an unidentifiable itch.

someone tweeted f. scott fitzgerald reciting ode to a nightingale

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poor son of a bitch

Arcana Magi Memorial - c.4

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Azure walked through the fog as though she were walking to class. Her hands swayed through the mist and felt the thickness of the cloud through her fingers

I want to hear the man talk

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I remember going out to a restaurant with some guy and a friend of mine who brought her little boy along. And suddenly her boy said, “I want to hear the man talk.” Well, that stopped us. Smart kid, I thought. He was fed up hearing her women friends talk