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Swan Song

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He ignored his scalded scrotum and listened intently. The music was beautiful beyond all physical pleasure or pain. The end of the piece gave him a deeper understanding of the expression 'la petite mort'. While he was still recovering, the next track b

3 Poems and a Seething Pen

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it’s more about how all those words look around each other. he’s more interested in the shape of things, than the reality....

Three Philosophers and Their Wives

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Wives, without exception, have birthdays, which if forgotten, are much-less-than-mirth days.

A Life of My Own - 7

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The park is filled with tents, tarps, and supporting structures, along with hundreds of diverse individuals seeking a common focus, wanting to make a difference, expressing an abundance of opinion, verbally and with signs.

Wintering

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Winter makes me reconsider.

Killing Joy

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In certain sense most fractured in each part, the whole Resolves itself more central, but I sense no calm In the cyclone's eye, the forest of the soul, Where plants this eidolon of poisoned charm. This is the secret of the hurricanes, reaping Out from…

Mail

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he strides with noble purposefulness along the crazy paving

If You See Something, Say Something

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You think there’s a chance the bag could be holding a severed head, or live or dead kittens.

Tablecloth Dresses: Song

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I see you’re wearing your tablecloth top again your tablecloth dress to impress me and distress me with all your tablecloth positions for your luncheons on the grass with all your famous friends who found you on your ass Yes we can

Made in Japan - 2

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My motivation as a filmmaker for traveling to Japan was economic and opportunistic. American military occupation had accelerated westernization and, when Japan regained its sovereignty in 1952, their economy was rapidly expanding. Led by manufacturing and export of items…

Where Does the Foam From the Lattes Go?

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Where does the foam from the lattes go? I'm not being flip--I want to know.

Again, the Spring

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The Endless Dream of Humanity

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Pigeons are really the souls of what were once beggars in the endless squares of Paris, Venice, or Jerusalem. They are born with the soul of a beggar attached to them. It is stuck beneath their wings. They cannot fly without it, and they ar

black crescent curved under

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I hope my blonde down still beats in your heart, and the black crescent curved under, you will remember, and I would move toward your window where my own heart lay in a dish, with the thick valley lifting. Remember, I crossed and uncrossed my legs f

I heard you singing in the bedrooms

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I heard you singing in the bedrooms with me. The down I was fond of, down of your cheek, your thighs light blonde in the light. Out of the dark, sweet bay, were you like a shining rock, shining white, undulating, a thing of heat. I remember you, yes!

'Bout Apples

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Sawyer walked toward the lone house with the sentinel trees. Behind him there were no tracks in the snow.

Act of Creation

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Mary ran her cake business in a way she could never have run her marriage. It was by appointment only, full deposit, partial refund (and this purely at her own discretion). Business was terrific and she had to turn down job after job. She only made…

Luce

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Lucy shrugs into the corner of the train's seat. She envelopes her IPod in both hands as if she's praying or holding a conch shell: safe, secure like when she visited a Morcombe beach in the school holidays. The only giveaway's the white headphone cord.

A Way of Place

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There are people walking, not knowing where they are, a way to peace is just that-- a place to go.

Hook

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“What the fuck!” Duke muttered, amazed at what he was seeing in the darkened store. A thin curtain of smoke was rising from under the baseboard like an inverted waterfall. It stretched the entire length of the left wall. Holy shit, the joint's on fire! I…

Postcard

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"Special delivery for a friend?" he asked. "Postcards are a wonderful thing. All people want to do nowadays is send e-mails. But what's better than putting a postcard on the fridge?"

Death's Noisy Herald

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Lying there, with the terrible screech emanating from his chest, blaring from his open mouth, he thinks about jet planes and jack hammers and nuclear explosions. He doesn't have quiet thoughts.

Crisp and New

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He told me it isn’t my fault. That my brain isn’t slowly and deliberately killing itself, not barbarically stripping away its own wiring to expose razor bursts of electricity.

Tumblring

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most interesting, i investigate all of this at 1:15 on a thursday morning and consistently contradict my assumptions while simultaneously validating them.

Sunset/Another Wasted Day

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He leans against the truck, the sun sinking on the day, shadows inching down the side of the house, yawning towards the horizon.

Sinning and Sinning and Sinning

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Then I learned she was revealing all our sexcapades to this young priest. Forgive me, father, I have sinned. We had sex outdoors against a tree in Wisconsin and the tree was blending with our act and becoming one with my back rubbing up against the bark

Global Arms - 3

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She continued to cooperate with a city council agenda dominated by globalized privatization

Gary

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Bipolar. Schizophrenic. Alcoholic. Addicted. Abused. A reader?

Functionary

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The work of translation is a braid of light.

Love's Hinterlands

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Sit down at night and stare into the fire. Consider if Cupid is just another liar.