Writing
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PoetryA Yellow Bus Passes
The holy man looks to the stars, tells time by the weight of the sky on his shoulders. He says that the end is…
PoetryAn Admission
It’s ridiculous to think we don’t disappoint someone every moment of every day. If father admits never having son’s back, it’s his revelation to…
PoetryOf the Moment
We will always have pariahs and darlings, wars and rumors of wars, plenty of old hatchets to exhume and soft centers to exploit. I'd…
PoetryLINES MADE OF SHATTERED GLASS
do not resuscitate this harsh dismantling of the self I cannot live this way any longer fractured dreams drooling out of my mouth as…
FictionClose to Christmas, after all
I sat up and read the alarm clock dial from the bed. 10 a.m. It was too late. I should have been at work…
PoetryFitgirl Repack
the relentless drip drip drip tedium of my sobriety is matched only by the cliché predictability of a relapse so, i displace any program…
PoetryCowboy Coffee
I dreamed she got a tattoo my mother [didn’t even approve of tattoos] on her back she lowered her robe for me to see…
PoetryLast Call
The day she fell my mother had 30 rolls of toilet paper neatly on her linen closet shelves. The list of things I might…
PoetryDrawn to the Wilderness
The radio plays funeral music. Mother enters my dream, acknowledges love is a sail and sets me adrift. Perception is only one part of…