Fiction
Where’s Nana?
She’s lighting a cigarette. The first time pops lost his words, I found her between the legs of a railway, staring at the ocean of
Wednesday
It’ll be a Wednesday. It’ll be cloudy outside. There will be fog creeping over the ravine and remnants of an early-morning rain still drifting
What is tomorrow?
Tomorrow is that glint in your best friends’ eye, When he proposes a daring plan. Tomorrow is that rainbow glinting in the sky, Reminding you
Pins
Crying, I recall my father shudders, remembering tall thin men at the foot of the bed apparitions at night, faceless heads like pins, mostly arms,
Only the Good Parts Left
Angie was the type of car people kept in antique store backyards ‘cause they thought she looked cool, “There ain’t nothing like a Classic Chevy.”
Home No More
I miss your coffee-covered breath, Early in the morning. It made me hungrier than death For a thrill without a warning. I miss your sweet