Most recent stories

A Story Told Over Dinner

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Then one day, Grandmother warned our father, her son, just like that. "Steven," she said, though he hated it when she used his full name, "I think some sort of storm is coming."

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Spent Wastes

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Edju 8 and 9

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8. I went back up the broken concrete steps to the high street, away from the mass of men and their stinking river. I returned to my apartment and retrieved my pistol. The mystery of blue steel. My beautiful Nagant M1895.…

Plant Me

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If you find the place they forgot to bomb send me a hot pink postcard. The planet is only so big. We're already dipping our heels into the waters without wanting to become true believers, miserable followers. The bedtime stories will have to…

masters of their trade

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vampires seem never to be victims of drought . . .


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I went to the lake,to our spot. there were daffodils there.i smiled at that, then cried a want to hear something funny?they scare me. they are so, so yellow.they screamed caution.I almost kept walking, but the sun is out, and I am…

Paws in Snow

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I suppose I'm getting nostalgic. The white landscape is suddenly interlacing with my reverie. I must return just for the memory of Blizzie. Faint paw prints in the snow-covered trail. It was walking along a lake, at the foot of a…

Miss Snipsnap

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A poem about a hairdresser. Published in Ambit

Weed Fire

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Wind was a sorry excuse for force

Apollo (2/2 - sections 3-5)

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III. Through wheelwind crypts of mystery, through…

Napomo 17: April 13 - 18

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Bones consolidate with age. The fleshy/ bits of body follow by wrinkling and/ spreading outward, appearing to expand.

Prologue: Fantasy

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You had your heartbroken a little bit, once, just enough to let you understand. You studied abroad. There was never a drunk man who refused to leave your dorm room.

Hands of a City

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On the usefulness of hands.

Excerpt (Writing With Wine)

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Damn, I joke with myself, who was the fucking idiot that bought this cheap bottle of red wine?

Why Jocks Shouldn't Work Behind the Counter at Subway™ Sandwich Shops: A Huge, Overarching Principle Bound to Encompass All of L

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[I just took a shit in my pants. It's got nothing to do with the story, but, as the author, I'm just letting you know. I just took a shit in my pants.]


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On the febrile edge

the morality of pens: a sonnet

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poets can kill, or at least they once could:/ perhaps poems tamed us, if they are any good.

Deadly duel: Blow v. Teach

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At last, we learn if Blow has the cojones to fight.

Diamonds in the Fog

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A terza rima


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I write poems.


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A feeling of warm wetness all over her body - milk, blood, tears. She might have a shower to wash the maternity smell off her. The baby…


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It isn't for you to know

When the wind/sky really is God

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and all the trees are holding/their limbs up in prayer/and rain is mating with soil

Squirrels Just Wanna Have Fun

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“Emma,” I said, “will you quit staring? What about the meatpacker’s hope for his daughter?” I asked. “Have you even thought about that?” “Once you get off the moon, maybe,” she said “Honestly, after so much lamb and schwarma I could go for a

"Edju" - 7th Stave

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7. The boys were there beneath the crooked stair. The long stair rambling in concrete bits with mouse holes and rain worn streaks. The stinking river dead and still just beyond. Some of them were writhing atop the bits…

Arcana Magi Zero Arc 3 - c.1

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Kenichi the boar arrived from the forest with the other elders. The police officers stepped back, awed by these large nature creatures.

Apollo (1/2 - sections 1 and 2)

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Apollo …

FAMILY TIES and GROWING PAINS Re-Runs *Are* Reality!

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Part One: Childhood + Adolescence

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You were “unschooled” after 4th grade – which means your mother pulled you out of school to homeschool you but didn’t actually do any formal teaching with you. You taught yourself a little for the SATs and managed to get a good enough score, even on the m