Most recent stories

Shakespeare's Dark Lady -- John Hudson (review disguised as fiction)

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William Shakespeare (a surname that meant "wanker" back in the day, by the way)

A Journal of the Plague Year: Day 237: A pandemic miscellany

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Wheel turning, round and round again

The Memory

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The old lady is losing her memory. She forgets people's names yet so familiar to her. A little sheepish, she takes her basket and walks to the village. Just like when her legs were young, suntanned, shapely and attractive. Along the footpath, by the shop windows, over the…

A Special Assignment

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In the graph of life or death, two axes will inevitably meet. Will it be as jarring as two sharp and well-hewn axes colliding?

How to Save a Shell from a Mountain

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"Love is just a word I've heard when things are being said"...--J.T.That thing that is empty now is me. I never thought I'd disappear, so crazily far from being myself. The love key has been thrown away, dropped without much fanfare. I carried…

times out of time

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muse of my heart, with each palace in love: / when Januaries lash with storm and sleet, / their dread dark nights all muffled in bright snows, / will you find coals to warm your purpled feet?

Chemical Assistance

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Through your veins

Existential Weather Report (Election Day 2020)

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Later, at home, on the internet, I assemble fragments of street celebrations from cities one coast to the other. I watch them and listen in the compressed fidelity of computer speakers. How strangely things feel.


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The trash is full. Again. I open the bathroom trash—because the diaper genie is stuffed—but there’s no room. I try the kitchen next. The lid swings open, catapulting carrot shavings onto the floor. I lay the diaper on the counter for later.

Interlude in Trader Joe's Parking Lot

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I'm pulled in by the music like a rogue wave and he has no idea I'm drowning...

What It Took To Be God

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You had to put up with Sunday drivers You had to love children All children, all of them! This is what it took to be God It wasn’t fun You had to be patient, sometimes You had to pretend to look the other way You needed to lose your he

Big Blue

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Standing on the edge of the great shelf


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When exactly does cheese go bad? it simply does not, I say.

Hell We Were American

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We danced the pee dance after too much Seven Up and tasted odd Jello dishes.

A dress

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My poetry is bare, showing its pink and purplish imperfections and its injuries. I buy it a dress to hide its bruises, to ornate it a little, to make it smile. On its rather ugly and mishaped body, the dress looks comical, ridiculous, clumsy, like a bird with a broken wing.…

there was a shameful attempt to steal fire and now the vultures always come for my livers and my God I Am sorry

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The Divine and merciful Understanding Calls out to me But let me not speak its name. You are an unworthy hearer And I am a secret-keeper, cunning With keen thoughts and prayers of swift Justice Single is our thought and act And when we pray we know not what it…

Slydexia for the Unimpaired in Eight Acts

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You tell its approach soon as veal resists both knife and fork, quick neutrinos land in internet ruby climes.

Notes to the Dead

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The kind of poem poets write and read. I mean, hey I was feelin’ it HARD at 3:24 am, and this is what spilled out.

The Fixer

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When someone asks me what I do, I tell them that I am a fixer. I fix things. There is nothing that cannot be fixed. Will it ever be as good as new? That is subjective, but I will fix it for you.

The Seagulls at the parking lot

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Turningturning the pale grey spotShe sits in her carin the parking lotwith the radio onleaning back picking a thin piece of skin from her fingerTurningturningthe seagulls move aroundand aroundabove the asphaltas though it was the wavewith its…

You Better Quit Your Runnin' Around

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I remember it was late at night I was with Johnny Appleseed’s younger brother Bruce Bruce Appleseed He was the lead singer for the band Fake Moustache Turns out he was just a bum Set on vibrate Who’d bought a 10-gallon hat once But h

4 Haiku

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we wanted summer: Distillers at Myhalyk's all those cancelled shows

Green Dots

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"It just makes sense to be nice to everything that lives."--Aurora AksnesLike Aurora, my favorite color is moss green. Anything else is a lie told to throw you off the scent. You will abandon her. Just like you will abandon me. Green. We were walking…

Father's Day

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I nudged my old man's boot from the coffee table and picked up beer cans. The boots were chewed-up and he still wore the shirt with his name, but he'd retired. There were little burn holes in it from welding and smoking. I emptied the mound of Lucky Strikes. He talked in…

Getting over the man in the moon

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First have a good window seat

The Cuervo Gold and Clorox Blues

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I try to keep myself from weeping. We are all actors in a bad dream, that doesn’t go away in the morning

Introducing Molloy Foppiano

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Before Andromeda can swallow us expand our stars...

'We're generically stamped. Aren't you generically stamped?'

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A Journal of the Plague Year, Day 193

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More thoughts on denial...

The Donkey

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Since dawn doesn't understand my words, I will give them to the donkey, finely cut for him, let them ferment some time and add a few sprigs of lucerne. The donkey grazes in the meadow down the road and always welcomes me with a grin that displays his mauve gums and his…