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The name he was using this time was Paul Sterling.
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118322
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Jack and Jane went up the hill.Give us a drink, said Jack. Here go, said Jane. They watched a bit of the city below, the city that was lit up by soft electrical lights. What say tonight Jane? Why so quiet? Many spirits are out Jack. They are all around. …
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163931
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It was a phone call we never expected. You were so full of life and joy and the sound of your laugh was pierced in our minds. Two strokes. That's what they said. No explanation, no back story. We worried we would lose you. Immediately, all of our memories with you started…
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160722
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I began to feed him. All the things I could think of - horror movies, cheese, salt, pickles, chilli. Vitamin B6 tablets washed down with warm milk. Anything I could do to grow little nightmares for my new pet.
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103731
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I am in a war against the literal. I have sewn these words together to make a stand of birch. I wander the earth gathering moon shadows and swords. Kerosene dots punctuate the Dakota night. An apparition of words hops through a calculus problem and falls into a…
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225811
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The orange sky melts away.
Shadows fall and twist in the wind. I’m on patrol with three of my buds, there to retrieve the body of a fallen comrade, Bill’s body, we’re told. They got him, used him, then dumped his body in a ditch and said, “He
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113332
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Something’s not right. Okie, the elder cat, seems–distrait. Taciturn. Phlegmatic. And those are just leftover vocab words from my son’s senior English class.
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You gave me chills on my opposite hip whenever you touched me from behind, when we spooned under the rough woolen blanket in your basement. Whenever your essence touched my life like that. Just like when you said, “You came, that’s all.”
That’s all? T
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178321
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so one time the Holy Ghost come down to Stumptown
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116421
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The water quality
will give you a hint
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147122
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Her eyes blaze through the green burka as her veil drops, revealing skull where face should be. Her teeth form a death grin, words pour from within, hollow like a baby's rattle. She speaks Farsi
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“I’m pregnant,” he says...
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Every time I look at you there are two dumb mouths that slip between stretch marks.
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...it was just my heart stnging through my eyes...
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111831
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Crunching gravel beneath my feet, the sound of approaching death.
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178640
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I don’t know what to make of this new territory we have stumbled into neither by accident, it seems, or design. Is there a map to be found?
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130341
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I gently honked my horn and gave her the kind of friendly neighbor wave that only friendly neighbors can give. She didn’t wave back. What the hell is her problem?
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Dandelions wither as I approach and the grass dies under my feet.
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It’s me walking in on you shooting up in the diner’s cesspool of a
shitter, and you trying to conceal the evidence while you’re telling
me it’s straight up your first time.
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okay fine, on the count of three
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118612
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Old scars at night burn hot and bright
Deep in her heart in Texas
She rides around with the ragtop down
Driving her brand new Lexus
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In his tiny fist he held the world
In his other his mothers hand
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The mannequin’s blind eyes, open, green, serene,
Look away from the cross, her hand
Against our crotch, against
Our suffering, our agony of being
Alive and beating warm.
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“Cheng Ho didn’t go just Cape Horn; treasure ships visit Australia and America. His very advanced compass. Not just point north-south. Show east-west too.”
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“Oh, where are you going to, O tow-haired rover?” Though my sight turns nowhere homeward, and my mouth's run numb, I can hear a leaflet sifting through the walls of clover; Though I stay, I ‘m going forth and o'er to Camelot, come- On a four…
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The light on his face from a lamp
Felt hat with a black band
Scrunched down
The nose creating a strong shadow
With dark, straight eyebrows under the hat
Red and orange beard
Leaning forward at the café table, watching
A damp curl of ha
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309212
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And aren't we are so then so rarely The hero in another's story When we want to be. And why are we so always Rounding stories on the heroes Who don't want to be? And aren't we are so then are so rarely Heroes in each others' …
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He fought off the U-boat packs in the Atlantic — one hand on the tiller, one on the torpedo launch button.
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Wicklow sat in the handicapped stall, pants down and straining, fed up to here with a world in which he couldn’t even take a decent crap.
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