Fiction

Short Story

A New World

  While he sleeps I catalogue his body. When he is awake I keep my distance. While he dreams I touch and map in a

Fiction

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.”

Poetry

Undressing the Sky

In love with dismal days, he told me why: Won by dimensions, his green eyes caress Big bosomed clouds. Suggestiveness of haze Conjures up Milky

Short Story

Paper Boat

Three walls of the room are made of tin, but on the fourth side a polished floor opens, running like fabric into curtains of lace,

Poetry

Opposable

How do I write with these frantic fingers Left index plugs tearing right aorta Right hand holds closed ripping left ventricle I am hopelessly, entirely

Poetry

When You Grow Up

I’d rather be a collapsed flower drenched in rainwater; succumbed to the well where wishes weld winning whims. though not alone as the barren heart