FICTION
How the Cigarette Burns
A Word, Please... It was two widths of a lamb's shank that separated us, clandestine, but surmised, between membranous sheets of silicon. At this moment, I can see her eyes, perpendicular to mine, forming a
Jimothy’s Riverwalk
A kneeling young woman is placing river stones methodically into an ash wicker basket. She has a drawn miasma of sadness and effort, stopping every few stones to assess the weight of the basket. Whipping,
A Vaster Masterpiece
Sometimes a Heading is just a Heading I grope to reclaim all of the insights I've ever had, as if they were lost to me. For the time that be's, evaporation, captured somewhere in heaven's
Suddenly I Realize
A Word, Please... And that every day that goes by without a word will end in neglect. Not that there is anything to offer my adoring self, watching hisself negotiate a chilly keyboard across the
Palindromic Nightmares
A Word, Please... I believe I have awakened again with the spin of liminal fever shedding sweat into bedsheets—an endless taxonomical investigation of what makes me human, and what comprises consciousness. I couldn't be sure
I Spy
A Word, Please... Plenary vibrations, ones that ricket the sole to the soul, immensification of ebullience, all shrugged into one Pine Box, from whence, upon opening, all the knowledge of evil flew. These coins on
No Dialog
A Word, Please... Spit in a puddle of three. Hovering a leg above a pile of bones, the shear skin to say: "Shake and quake, disaster monkies! Hovel not thy tongue, lashed upon the prowess
Werther the Wait of the World
A Word, Please... A suckle punch to the grufft. Two minichikins cubbled in a versnickt, one had the cloak of invisibility, the other had eyes of stony stoicism. It wasn't for me to awaken and
Gallantry of Devolution
A Word, Please... "OfGloveAndShootEm!" Enchantra exclaims hurling her bulk over the corral fence to her mighty companion, Figglemusk the Hetarded, an elongating bead of drool fountained from the steeply drooping half of a lower Downes
Figments of Exacerbation
A Word, Please... From the shattered hand of Jeremiah to the bangled hip of Salome, and all of the sensual inertia beneath, I squeeze into an aperture that reminds me of an attic. Perhaps a
A Mealful of Slop
A Word, Please... Never a day deserved to die without a word count. Whether by the crooked crook ['ere it make me strait, and jettisoned beloft ungirded to the craws of piracy, to whittle the
