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Parabolic Turns

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There was a man dressed in stately attire. His name was Abacus, which maybe you find strange, but then keep this in mind: it is, after all, just a name.

Pillow

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“I was just dreaming about you,” he said, sleepy-voiced. “What's for breakfast?”

That Which Does Not Kill You (Only Postpones The Inevitable)

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Harold Smithe awoke that Tuesday morning precisely at 6 am. He did this every day for as long as he could remember. Even on the weekends when his schedule varied. Well, varied slightly. He lay in bed trying to wake up and mulled over the things he needed to accomplish for…

Black Hole Me

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my fingers vibrate magnetic/ a humming void/ where my brain was

December and a Former Cotton Field

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In the sad suburban subdivision with its cul-de-sacs and broken curbs

Residual Sulking

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I know I know how many times you want me to tell you I’m sorry, okay?

Thank You Economy

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It started out small: just a cup of coffee, purchased, and an extra one that I gave away.

Walt's Frozen Head

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What if Walt Disney had himself turned into a cartoon?

Free As A Bird

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The cell was crowded, barely enough room to swing a cat.

Naked Coffee

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My wife makes coffee naked. Didn't used to. Back then, before the accident, she hated her body. Says that's why she gave it to me. She's serious about it too. The coffee, I mean. Developed a whole ritual around buying, measuring, pouring. Every day it's the…

A Paper that Changes Things

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The dowdy woman in fart nailed the vim.

Where Breakfast Went

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Larry’s unwashed hands held a cardboard sign. Two largely printed words that would, every now and then, elicit a thumbs up. “Got Pot?” was the only question he really wanted an answer to.

The Thrill of Sky Diving

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It's not that you want to be silkworm all your life. That's what I'm telling my on-again-off-again girlfriend aboard the plane. Her name is Phoebe as in that song about a girl who lived in her own world within the shell of another. Phoebe, I'm saying, to bridge distances…

Phlegmatic

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Eddie Dorsett was a dumb kid. Nobody could dispute it. More than that, Eddie Dorsett was a fat, slothful, whining, shilly-shallying, phlegmatic zero of a kid, the lowest of the third-graders for certain and a prime contender for the lowest of the entire R

The New Poetry

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The new poetry comes in shining metal boxes covered in glass so you can peer in.

Homecoming King

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John Lipkin took a drag off his cigarette and rummaged through his desk drawer looking for pot. There wasn't any. He remembered looking last night, but he looked again now. There wasn't a damn thing, just some stems…

(we can only hope)

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And you should know, every woman smiles at a man buying flowers, because … we can imagine. We can only hope.

The Clock Man's Trouble

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A lowing cow cracked open the darkened room like the yawn of a gravid alien.

Blue Jeans and Black Leather

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I lock the last of the beer and wine doors and head back to the cash register. Our clocks are not on bar time so I only have a few minutes. I check the till. A stack of ones and three fives. Enough to break a twenty, but looking bare. The parking lot's empty. The air…

Bearded Lady

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Nights this husband returned home still hungry sometimes, even for her forearms against his own

Mountain Country

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I’ve always missed the mountains, but I didn’t know it until I saw them.

The Endless Dream of Humanity

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I may have walked across the sacred line That separates me from the rest of mankind But I already paid my dues So, what club do I get into? When I wake up And the wild rain of dreaming Ends I discover that Guilt is just another four-le

The Rats

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I climb up on the sofa and stand next to him. I smell something.

The Catch

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His granddaughter, Ivy, sat on his knee looking at an old photo album she found under the couch during one of her afternoon explorations. She made him wipe off the dust and cobwebs before he took her through all the pictures, per normal protocol. The albu

To Kill a Deer

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On September 12th, 2011, the ban on deer hunting became official. Apparently, the hunting and killing of deer had become too cruel. The ban had been a long time in the making. Ever since man began hunting deer way back in the day—somewhere between a fe

Hard-to-Reach Places

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Jody wakes some days with pieces missing.

InSiDe

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dreaming in my cartoon life the car lifts its legs a hundred feet in the air

The Grief Benches

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I pass the Grief Benches on my way to work. No one is on them today. Last night I saw a couple there, him wet eyed and her with her head down. She scrunched her eyes tight as I passed and I remember thinking she was a fraud. It's alright if you don't want

Finite Automatons in Winter Quarter

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To my right, blank stares interchange with closed eyelids on an unkempt face. The minutes drip into the endless sea of night outside the window, each time creating a deeper blackness.

Sleeping late in Cahuita, Costa Rica

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The light of day is screaming, shook by the calls of howler monkeys, their low roar hanging in the salt, in the black sand riding the wind, as Playa Negra outstretches its infinite arms.