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Capt. Love's Last Command (poem)

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The old man is dead, body propped in its cart like the dead El Cid strapped on his horse by Jimena to save Valencia, and yet...

Dragonfly

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Dragonfly She danced out of the burning rubble, wrapped in a shawl made of iridescent silk. It must have been her grandmother's. Her arms were wings, the silk translucent and fluttering. Fire fell from the sky. Thatched roofs, walls of mud-daubed sticks, the huts…

Blueberries

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Cold water shocked Ernest's face. The evening with Gracie had his nerves hot and popping. She was his fifth date and the closest to his memory of Sadie in college so far. He looked up at himself in the bathroom mirror with his mouth agape. Redness flooded…

Have You Seen Me?

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It’s as she reaches into the fridge for the carton of half-and-half with the grainy waxy photo of the little girl—Last Seen 10/2/06—that the memory surfaces: “Hey. That’s mine.”

Why They Cried: Jisette

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There was that long weekend she'd spent lazing around a suite at the Beverly Wilshire between the Golden Globes and the Oscars with the suddenly now married actor, and then there had been Cabo. This was before the current thing and before the thing before

No Flowers in June

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Of flowers there Are none In June No sun Upon my cheek The gentle breeze Stirs me not The smiles They cloud my vision Birds they Sing their songs But I hear Them not When tears Rain down My heaven.

A Game of Dodge Ball

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Mo Dean woke up sober. And tired. Tired of life, of soiled pants, rash, vomit, and whiskey sweat. Tired of holes in his pockets and blisters on his feet, of hanging signs asking for dimes and getting only pennies. And most of all, tired of the police.

The Alarm

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Rain pours through the ceiling and the building's fire alarm sounds repeated bursts of loud abrasive distortion 1 2 3

Slime

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Once or twice he sees her around town when he’s out driving but other than that, I mean, it’s not like he was stalking her, he didn’t know where she went to school or what she did for a part-time job, he didn’t care, he wasn’t interested.

Skins of my past

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The past follows, battered, bruised, always behind

Homeland Security

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By the time I got back to the island only Henson was still alive. He didn’t speak; the gun said it all.

Lessons Learned

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What was so bad about other religions that their followers were automatically condemned to eternal damnation? The priests were so convincing when they claimed Christ was the only true way.

The Chords are Clean, the Growl is Real

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"Good, it's Link Wray again,"

Renoir: Le Moulin de la Galette

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Crowded into the heart are impressions past These are not recognized in the available light of the present. So they sit in the dappled shade drinking, the clear glass partially filled with various and red liquid. Hat tilted back. Black top hat S

sidewalk cafe at night. van Gogh

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The heart of those stars is a dab of yellow light. The darkness of the blue night appearing so deep because of the downward strokes of the actual sky interspersed with a violet that is almost black above the truly black silhouettes of the city buildings

A Deal With Tomorrow

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I suppose I'd rather Tomorrow be heroic. It would make the passing of time less villainous.

Stories of Love Under a Full Moon

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What do you do when someone’s in love and you know it’s wrong?

Love at First Sight

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Life ascends gradually—just like they always said. I stop counting on immediate transformations—the overnight best-seller, instant enlightenment—and instead focus on what I can do: Writing a little each day and making it to Mass on the weekend. I even giv

Mercury Unbound

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~!~

NOLA's Nightcap

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I need to be commended, despite the wine glass that threw itself at your sister's head of rollers. Imagine a pear in the deli meat aisle ripening behind glass...

The Silver T to the West Side Highway

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They watched the seven o'clock news.

the keyboard hovers over me like the reaper

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a disease/ like junk-sickness/ like a jealous lover/ who discovers competition/ and meets it with a blade/ in your heart,/ not hers.

Zombies Calling

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The zombie apocalypse was long foretold as a rather exciting bit of bother involving shotguns and chainsaws, but the reality of it is rather depressingly boring.

Agent 3

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i beat myself back into the littlon fish door, the algae sealing strip connecting as it does. Eons ago, i fell, and andy and i met with hands of crab and lobster in an eleborate room benaeth here, but I know very well, i am not him

Humans [a screenplay-in-progress]

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She BENDS over and retrieves a bag that says POTATO CHIPS on it. Her dress is vaguely sweaty.

This Is Really Living, She Said

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She bought herself her own apartment That was when she told me I have a hard time getting out Unless it’s really important like work I told myself wake up early Get some coffee, but I oversleep I had a massage therapist come to my house

The Last Warrior

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His wings, like tiny shoots, grew a season in an instant. The pain was gone now. He rose up as effortlessly as centaurs run, as angels fly. "I will sing your name as my brother among my brothers," the Seraph promised. Kladius watched the beasts below

Shim

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better than being dead

Poet's Offer to Help Grieving Goes Unheeded

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Remembering you is easy We do it every day, When little Mike and Joey Ask when the hell is Daddy ever coming home to play?

Cabinet

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In the morning I listen through an ear-trumpet