Most recent stories

Sewing the Labyrinth

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If girls have keys for fingers then locks cannot hold them.

Mind Games

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Rendine Philips polishes his courage and enters the fray. Not virtual reality, more reality virtuous. He feels the pull and the push. Electricity pulses resistance.

Satellite Dish (from The New Yorker)

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Just as one thing I say is “Don’t worry about me,” one thing I think is that you love somebody by living with them...

The Nest

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I am reaching out at you, to you from the nest. From the nest, please come to the nest, to see me and to hear my life story. From the nest I go, and then I arrive at the nest, suddenly, just in time to be…

Building Houses Out of Words

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I remember sitting there on the first unfinished rooftop, watching you building houses out of words. You hammered in grammar and punctuation; you said these things needed to be hammered in by hand. You drove the long straight exclamation …

WHIPS, TEARS AND BLOOD:

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A needle passed through my lungs. My breathing made the needle pierce deeper. I felt anger rise up within me but I determined not to cry. – I had cried enough. No more tears. Arossi looked at me, probably expecting me to cry. I didn’t

Johnny Bruzzone: Pool Hustler

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I was a coward and didn’t want to get killed like Heimley. Heimley was a nut at high school. I saw him myself one night put his hand right through the windshield of this car he was working on, along with a monkey wrench. Sure, he was drunk, but th

Dear Zombie William Carlos Williams,

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If you wanted to retain the ownership of said works, then you should not have died.

We Need to Breathe

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She turned and looked at me as if she had just discovered me. A weak smile looped around the edges of her mouth but she didn't mean it. It was as if her brain had relayed a signal to her mouth to smile but the mouth didn't really want to, not really.

Snowed In

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“ I told you what she said, that she liked me better when I was drinking. Well, that's the way I feel, too. I liked her better when I was drinking.”

The Mojave Desert Remembers Ron Paul

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The Mojave Desert remembers Ron Paul With tattered billboards Scraped and clawed by vehement dust

Arcana Magi - c.11: Feelings

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The warmth flowed around her, and her heart beat at a calming pace. She felt as though the heat bathed her like water and felt her body cleansing within it.

The Boy at Feeding Time

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My legs hung over the bed as I leaned over the food tray. Under my left arm was Adele, my toy cat. I wondered if the staff told the boy of my ritual of always feeding Adele first before I gave the spoon to myself.

Just Before the Funeral

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We had been on the way to the church when we found them. The handkerchief in my breast pocket was folded just so and I'd tried to recreate the perfect ribbon in Ashley's hair, …

Tragedy, Ecstasy, Doom

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John 1.46 "Berkeley! Can anything good come from there?" Bilbo asked. "Come and see," said the ring.

Is That a Floating Postcard over There in your Shirt Pocket, or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

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We came wind-milling together ,up and over the blue and yellow stone bluffs, like a couple of empty yet racing nowhere fast plastic grocery bags, catching onto everything and anything in our way, and desperately trying to get free again,…

There.

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There: you see a woman who has laid hands on the man she walks with. Tomorrow she will kill herself. Let me speak her life. Born alone, without event. Moon, gibbous. Month, Julius, the tail end. A Leo. Many other signs and wonders seen to have been…

Island Music

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Of all the things Shelly hated about her job, the music was the worst.

The Tourists at the Museum

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For the camera she smiles otherwise not and only when she is standing beside him But for the camera? for the crowd for posterity yes For their children for the future? yes, again yes a thousand times until her face be

The Palatski Man

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He reappeared in spring, some Sunday morning, perhaps Easter, when the twigs of the catalpa trees budded and lawns smelled of mud and breaking seeds.

sunday morning lie-in

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i'm staying down here

Every Headache

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It’s possible that you’re dying. Every headache a brain tumor, your friend once said. You laughed then. Now you begin to see what he meant.

A Brief Meditation on Smoking

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There are two kinds of stupid in the world of smoking. The first kind includes anyone who smokes – knowing well that it is likely to cause terrible pain at a later point in their lives. The second kind includes the people who tell the first kind that sm

What if god was one of us?

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an old Black woman, a sequined black cap poised on the left of her crown of black infused gray hair.  A gray wool shawl that seemed to perfectly match her hair's color wrapped her all the way down to her hips, where a battered pair of blue jeans rested

February 7th, San Diego

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When I step barefoot on sand you're here again warm and soft and you let me sink in while you hold me up and make my legs like running drunk in a dream; away from all the nice things everyone said about you. And it seems like you're right here…

Why is a Hog always Corpulent ? (or Another Special Exhibit at the Met)

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"the initial hors d'œuvres, those good offerings that he would present to his select and redoubtably upstanding guests, at some grotesque banquet where elegant sows, in couture gowns, and astoundingly decorous coiffures, preen and plume about all through

Australia (from slushpilemag.com)

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Now Ninalee gets up from the table. She starts to put some snacks in a bag for Janny and Benjie, and some storybooks in there too, to read to them in the park: books about trains, mostly, and there’s one with a bus and one with a car...

Wounded Animal Songbook

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I pull into the parking lot and see a group of roosters squawking and trying to overturn an ‘87 Pontiac Bonneville that's caught fire. They're pouring whiskey down their throats. They're weeping over a bag of economy sized frozen breast fillets.

The Palisades

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These are not the caffeinated men of barbaric lore.

Lawn

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white-gray mounds persist