Most recent stories

Her

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If you were looking for her She's in the backwoods grafting your skin from her thighs

A Night of Furversion

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Another subject of interest is "furverts"--"individuals who engage in sexual activity while dressed in animal costumes."

Separation

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The increasingly furrowed lines on his forehead made her stomach clench.

Why We Need To Keep Writing

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We need to keep writing because the great ones aren’t always that great We need to keep writing to insure that the future even has a future We need to keep writing because the wind won’t know how or when to listen if we don’t

Dangle Veils

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No one could understand. No one wanted to understand. They were all gripped with horror, fear flowing through every nerve in their body. Could it be a serial killer? Could it be an animal ? Could it be an accident? Or was this a prank gone bad ?

Leox

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Whoever came up with the term kismet is an absolute moron. There isn't a single reason, or word, that can describe what exactly my brain has concocted in the face of him. No, kismet isn't what makes it happen. It's my own stupidity..

July Night At Greenlake

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In the vaultwhere no one had daredsince your first stillborn screamsI swept out your deadThe gnawing thingsboneless and dustyand stinking of churchesYou came to me thenand I took youthere in the shadowsunder the tree on the grassnear the reeds by the lakeI dived in your…

My Bossa Nova Years

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It is no coincidence that the bossa nova craze coincided with the years in which I achieved my greatest romantic success--first through sixth grades.

Too Much Information

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He couldn’t dredge up a single memory about the sex.

Grace Note

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At James’ funeral, Edward recalled the Brooklyn night in James’ Chevy.

Say What

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Jane says to Roy, “What are you doing, Roy?”“Fuck off, Jane, I'm reading,” says Roy.“Well you could have just said so.”“I did.”“I mean just without—”“Yeah, well fuck off anyway.”“I've had…

extinguished

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The silence grew louder as it grew longer.

Sidewalk Opera

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She is left feeling like she has missed a stop, that she's at the last stop, that she's somewhere she wasn't meant to be.

A Dream Lay In Wait

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Roanne hungered. Memory had ruled her forever. Shards really, edged like machetes: daddy, whose fingers had eyes in the dark. Momma, ensconced in the shadows. Inside the church, those pairs of short…

My Godot-Shaped Hole

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Godot teases

Character Witness

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You will say how easy it was to love him, How he is kind, gentle, Quick to rub your shoulders in the evening And never one to forget an anniversary. They will ask you of his interests, moods, pass-times And you will silently think of…

like a child

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where is the magic at? the spit the dirt or the words?

Liquor and Older Women

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"What is a vageena?" I wanted to know.

Who's Going To Clip the Toenails of God?

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Who will plume the chicken? Who tend the little flower of the soft person? Who steal the pea out from under the bank while you’re holding it up?

The Magical Thinking of Birds

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Her eyes grew wide, moist, catching the low light, holding onto it as if an imprisoned lover. "So you come home." I smiled. Was she playing a game?

Live Sacrifice

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I don’t name the dog but the fish requires a name. Animals that do not get eaten must be named. The dog is still on the menu.

Jesus, Borges, Jelly Roll

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It was Judge Fogarty who said “Thirty days in the market—take him away. Give him a good broom to sweep with—take him away.”

The High Price Of Wisdom

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Billy took acid and blatzed into a 7-11, holding his dick like he hoped the store guy would think the thing was an Uzi. The guy laughed his ass off, reached under the counter, and pulled out a .38…

THE BOATMAN OF THE BADLANDS

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A 20-footer up on skids sky-blue paint beneath the bondo

It’s Not Over Until It’s Over

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Heaven’s a blast! It’s like a big summer camp in space...We are the weavers of the tie-dyed sky.

A Day In The Life

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I stood at a workbench for eight hours a day, scraping various shapes and bits of metal fresh from the machinist’s press, plotting my escape.

Godot is a Heartbreaking Figment

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Godot is on the way.

Glass Rooster

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ghosts of the previous owners who leave a trail of whispers

Godot Finally Shows!

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Vladimir and Estragon stood hunched at the corner of Ellis and Taylor in San Francisco's Tenderloin district. Bedraggled and spent, they looked dully around them at pretty much nothing. They could have been thirty, or maybe…

Rest Stop

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Wicklow sat in the handicapped stall, pants down and straining, fed up to here with a world in which he couldn’t even take a decent crap.