Most recent stories

Little Hands

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She would now return to the waves and look for another shell to add the latest beautiful moment to her treasure of memories.

The Stanislavski Code

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Your eyes would click to my stride as I walked past the table where you sip your coffee. I would feel your gaze, but ignore you from a practiced sense of pretense.


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and the smiles light the way when the wind blows the darkness

eleven by eleven by five

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(the hourglass has not gone digital, oh no,/but these days, silicon is in with the sand)

The Man Inside

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...her facial twitches, gasps and whines, her moments of trapped silence.


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Scenes of anxious

Wolf Moon

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Keeper of the balance. Husband of the night.

American Passage

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The moon, a cataract cloaked in its charcoal fog, slowly seeps among the trees; night's unguent.Its glance is constant and white,its arc known. I watch its brow of bone with constant wonder.The long, slow funeral of America is taking its time; its…

Wayward Souls

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Katie knew about clearing out, it’s what she had just done; cleared out, cleared away, clear across the country.

Paper Horse

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The trouble with paper horses was not how flimsy they were when you were flying them, reigns in hand, high enough above the treetops that falling would mean more than a bruised knee.

While More She Tried to Babysit Me at a Party When I Was Stoned, But There Was a 'Block' Between Us. It's Why Since For Ever an

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d anon., I've Had Trouble "Loosening Up." I've got to keep my pump primed, don't I?

words, for you

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My lips would, if they could, be concerned exclusively with kissing.

American Soul

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At one time it appeared that Everyone was walking their own angel On a leash, but Now we're not that sure at all And it could come out in song That it might really be the angels Who’ve been walking us All along All this broken glass

Chlorine Dream

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death spoke in a swimming pool in late june:

Mr. Creeping Hands, Gum-Popping Granny and Crabby Newspaper Guy: Welcome To Your Local Library

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Giving challenging patrons funny nicknames is a "library thing."

Let Us Never Say Goodbye

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Parked on a stretch of forgotten highway, the truck idled, the cab radio jangling softly with biscuits and gravy and the deathless sweet Clementine of country music. Jake touched the volume up, took a swig of Old Crow, and recapping it, stashed the bottle under the seat. He…

Three Short Pieces

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#spotify / Elevators / Sky Burial Monologue

With My Eye

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my space heater throws a pale orange light my white candles flicker in the middle of the night

The fractal subtext of violence

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"I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride I'm wanted dead or alive Wanted dead or alive…"

Grief Leaves the Room

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It leaves on a Saturday,suddenly, while you are raking leaves or taking out the trash.Those inevitable, boring things.You do not hear it go;it's been quiet before when it left certain rooms. It no longersleeps beside you, and you learnedlong ago that the bed was…


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We flew./ In my dreams, I can fly.

The New Year

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Early this morning I open the new year book on the first page. It's still blank, without words, without lines, without images. There is nothing to signal, to report. Perhaps soon there will be cries and tears, black stains on the paper. Hopefully also some coloured …

Arcana Magi Zero + Pure - c.6

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The cubs from every Clan shivered at his snarl. The Elder’s presence was overwhelming, and level of pressure pressing down upon them.


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Weddings, engagements etc.

Stop It!

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Don’t shout. Be nice Cheer up. Sit up Straight. Don’t play With your food. Elbows Off the table. Watch Your language. Use Your napkin. Eat the Crust Stop fidgeting Stop scratching Close your mouth When you chew Remember to Clea


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The week before she left for Costa Rica with her new lover she called me. Often, she did this. We talked for hours. What should I pack on my trip? she asked. Setting out with him …

Skull of a Sheep: Revisited

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You are in a car speeding through Dublin towards the West year after year the journey uncoils past the same landmarks Kilmainham Jail strapped to a chair bullet to the brain on by the Rowntree Mackintosh factory where the black and…

lament of Liu Ch'e . . . while elsewhere--

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in her silk sleeves is silence sheathed.

Santa's stuck

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Santa’s stuck/you say? In the chimney of course./The lard-arsed ol’bastard struggling

#yearning for you

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Cosmic, epic desire #yearning for you