Most recent stories

Gerontophile: An Imposition

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His shirt, striped, fuzzy, is of fabric like velour and wreaks havoc with sunlight. His seat faces the aisle, I am sitting forward-faced across the aisle, we are on a half-full city bus, this afternoon.It is a funny shirt so I smile. I am not smiling because of…

MOTHS

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I didn't care for parties when Jackie was alive and I donot like them now. Deborah, our daughter,…

Arcana Magi - c.19: Opportunity Arising

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Kyo held her hand gently and stared at the bracelet as Brie explained everything that happened. It was painful to hear.

We Are Not Just A Bit of Irrelevant Pollution

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"It's hard to make a man understand something if his livelihood depends on him not understanding it."--Upton Sinclair I understand what Zappa was saying,about broken hearts and assholes, but, well, reallywhat if yours is already broken and already…

THAT KIND OF LOVE

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I've heard of sucessful marriages where there's very little sex. My heart aches for that kind of love.

Myra's Cigarettes

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I know from the experience of too many odd sideways glances that folks are seldom interested in my brand of observation. No one else seems to wonder how many commas there are in the library or how many other people own that exact shirt.

Baby Catalogue

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my mouth is open, ready to bite your tiny toes

The Mating Habits of College Girls

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Jeremy and I are in bed tangled in the sheets, my head on his chest, and he’s playing with my hair, stroking it the way I like. He’s breathing heavy, my arm wrapped around his torso, and I’m smelling him and he smells sweet like he always does. Th

Guramachimachi

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The carnival passed through this hotel one time only, its boarded guests pretending to ignore the smell of outdoor whore in their bedding.

The Sticking Point

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I felt dark, dark...

Lanyards

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theme songs for concentration camps!?

Me. You. Love.

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In my own case, before Ellen, of course there was someone else. She—well, she was someone who I felt as if I’d always known and always would. And I think she felt the same about me.

HIT AND RUN

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HE DREAMED THAT NIGHT OF A SMALL BLACK CHILD LYING INJURED IN THE STREET, UNABLE TO CRY OUT

Poet Found Living Near Berkeley!

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Reports have been spreading fast that an actual living poet has been found right outside the borders of Berkeley Rumors grew into a wildfire of speculation Saturday night when one of them a tall graying older specimen more or less in the

I Beat Myself at Chess (revised)

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There we sat, myself and I, at a small folding table in the middle of the lab beside the main, l-shaped workbench. The lab was empty - always was - except for the two of us.

The Woman with No Skin

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Far away or up close, she appeared just like anyone else, a young woman with pale arms and legs and a milk-face unblemished by a single freckle or pimple or blotch. Only when she turned a certain way did it become clear that what rested atop her muscle an

The Meaning of Life

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One must not confuse the meaning / of life with the joy of living

Tipping The Balance Sheet(The Feet Within the Beat is an Old Battered Hat By Now and Don't You Just Know It!)

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Third Shift

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Some great, doubtless precious; some hollow, likely empty; some only shards, but you never know...

How I learned what to pray for

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“Mommy,” the voice was thin as a fledgling's. “I'm here, baby,” I said. An arm rose from the pavement and small fingers wound themselves into my…

The Summer She Turned 17

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The summer she turned 17, she had to hold all the pieces of herself together with a red ribbon she tore off an old dress. It wound its way around her neck, her heart and her throat. It snaked down to her hips, the curve of her thighs, and wrapped itself

The Girl With the Bobby Pin Hair

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She had covered her laughing mouth, trying to prevent him from seeing a storied past.

X

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I was always too political, you said, with my Malcolm X posters and my DC rallies...

Backwards

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One of her favorites was of an old axe asleep on a desert floor. She told people the axe had the western lips of September. That it held the song of the ocean and the dreams of a scarecrow. Some thought she was mad to talk in such a way. Others believed h

afternoons

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i think god composed afternoons with crayons

Measures

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Pascal would let something slip now and then. He was sharp and spoke excellent English, with a beautiful Spanish accent. He corrected speech among the guys, but he exercised his lessons in grammar with an eloquence that fascinated all of us, not letting a

Naked Ladies

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She said she wanted to find a man who could appreciate a woman who gave great head.

A Drowning

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This is the record of a drowning.

Burying the Hatchet

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I wanted the pain to go away

Letters from the Aslyum (2)

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Leo, leo, leo, leo, the word itself imprinted on my brain, carved with a pearl handled blade into my cerebral cortex, into the medulla, burrowed deep into my dreams, I miss your kissing.