Stories tagged prose-poem

Five Days Under A Fridge

9393 views00 comments00 favs

The Southern Comfort he sits outdoors in a snow-storm’s snowflakes collecting in his drink.


1010 views66 comments00 favs

there are none

Loco Rd

5050 views00 comments00 favs

Tattooing over your confusion by assuming you decorating the most painful acres of your flesh impresses anyone who has invested just as much money in the effort.

Paddy On Crack

9494 views00 comments00 favs

He lies like a dead deer across the hood of his bed.

Tuscumbia, Alabama

10951095 views1111 comments77 favs

My dad at the wheel, my mother's ulcer inflamed, she puked her way across northern Alabama that summer, from Huntsville and the rusting rockets to Tuscumbia, the farthest any of us had been west. We drove through raw, blistered towns,…

With a Hint of God

9292 views88 comments44 favs

Sometimes there was a sweet smile on her face, or a hand on her hip. But mostly, her sweet mouth was blurred in motion.

Crass Rags

107107 views00 comments00 favs

The cold glazed ambivalence that abuses anyone interested in getting to know you.

The Thief

15251525 views5252 comments2424 favs

I said, kiss this.

Southern Patterns of Coincidence

120120 views00 comments00 favs

The otherness I slip off like a prophylactic saving humanity from a part of my self outliving me: the best remedy I've come up with to make the world a better place.

The Ruined Person

994994 views00 comments00 favs

The pit of my stomach was bottoming out, this lurching sort-of feeling one experiences when one has coasted WELL OVER an abyss and has no way of finding one's bearings . . .


6565 views33 comments11 fav

Once or four times, I have sat with the future. It is the large number of dolphins stranded in Cape Cod these last two months. It rides the public bus and carries a cane made from a tree limb and a chunk of quartz. It is purifying itself in…

Happiness in Love

16431643 views3434 comments2323 favs

The happiness was a tablecloth for a picnic. The happiness was the carpet in the hallway. The happiness was the wall behind the painting. The happiness was the sky behind the cloud. The happiness was the seating in the Saab.

Internet Hole (an excerpt from Psychopomp)

915915 views11 comment11 fav

Seventeen-year cicadas are the sometimes-singers that surprise spring with the ugliest mouths of all.

Empires Of Mice

5858 views00 comments00 favs

[...] a population so conspicuous in their compromise they fail to see the nakedness of their condition.

All Bones

447447 views2929 comments2020 favs

You will remember. Me. Rena. A Six-Killer by marriage, a Harris by birth. All Bones my mother's name.