July 2022
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Have you heard of not peddling religious texts in a public library?
So, yes, yet again, I was at the damn public library trying to get some writing done. If you are familiar with my other library rants, you’ll know I always seem to run into some kind of trouble or annoying distraction at my local library. Well today was no different as some miniature Ralph Malph… Continue reading
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The Doll Salon (Pt. 1)
Feldon Fartz sat nervously in the waiting area of the Fifth Avenue Doll Salon. It smelled like makeup and money and there were a lot of people moving around and phones ringing. Continue reading
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The Linguini Ballroom
The Linguini Ballroom is a black and blue champagne glass, the bubbles being elevators to space Continue reading
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Child of the Cabbage (Ep. 4)
He watched her from the safety of a window inside as Gracelyn poked at the worn strip of earth below the swing with the tip of a shoe. She slowly swayed in the cool air of the playground, oblivious. Her thoughts were listless, yet on fire. She gazed into the emptiness around her and then… Continue reading
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Child of the Cabbage (Ep. 3)
The salt and pepper scruff on his face was uneven, choppy like a soured sea, as if he had used a dull butcher knife to shave. Continue reading
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Nihilistic Karma
I was sipping nihilistic karma from a chipped cup on a hillside overlooking a rainy funeral dirge Continue reading
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Child of the Cabbage (Ep. 2)
Gracelyn Polk sat at her desk in the middle of her world history classroom at Cabbage Junction Primary School. She was fidgety and nervous and chewing on her nails like she knew she shouldn’t. But she couldn’t help it. She hated giving speeches. Hated it so much. She softly sighed. “I’d rather eat tree bark… Continue reading
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Child of the Cabbage (Ep. 1)
Gracelyn Polk sat in the Cabbage Junction Public Library reading about the Napoleonic Wars from an old, oversized book. Continue reading
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The Temples of Celestial Evacuation
I floated above the road from out of LipLock, Tejas earlier in the day and headed north, then east. I rumbled along with the roar of it all past that Tulia place again, into the belly of the Yellow City and then back out again like a screaming colon blow. There was a place further… Continue reading
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Born on the Fourth of the Flies
In a pink and salty green desert town in one of the new states, adobe Spanish churches thrust their steeples heavenward, the tips vaporously scraping against the cold blue veil and its cotton-ball clouds glued there like a childhood art project about life. Down one of the hot, dry, and murderous streets named Olive, a… Continue reading
cereal after sex 