Creative Writing
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The Skyscrapers of Henry Miller
Airplanes streaking across the sky on the same warm summer day wrecking balls sexing up dirty brick walls all in the name of pain, windowpane Continue reading
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The Laguna Bungle (Session 1)
Deep-seated dreams play in my head like an 8mm film. I can hear the monotonous whir of the projector. I can see the images flash across a square white screen tacked to the wall with screaming skull nails. Her heart spills out to me in black ink calligraphy a moment before I was running through… Continue reading
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The Shakes (Excerpt 3)
My name is Magnolia Shakes, and I was born on July 28, 1970. Exactly eight years later my daddy died in an act of self-killing out on the interstate near where we lived. Continue reading
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Call of the Balls
I enjoy the smell of blue Play-Doh, it reminds me of childhood wounds Continue reading
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Refrigerated Dreams (Act 5)
Veronica Genesis sat nervously in class trying to focus on the puzzling geometry book spread out before her. She lifted her head and painfully watched Mrs. Anderson’s back as she scratched something into the green blackboard with a thick piece of white chalk. Continue reading
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Refrigerated Dreams (Act 3)
Veronica never wanted him to pull away, but when he did his taste lingered on her mouth and she wanted to hold it there forever, to brace it from any wind that might wipe it from her lips and send it off into oblivion. Continue reading
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Applesauce Cat
It’s the countdown to broken neck as end of summer lawns hiss as the sprinklers spit at the grass like riots, I am hungry and in pain deep down in the belly welly of life on bourbon street sans street, the plastic puppets of a childhood tossed in a bin scream redemption Continue reading
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Spaceship Gravy
The sky was black most of the day because the sun went and hid behind the world. It was something like Winter Solstice and the world was tipping over like a bucket of paint, a deep red spilling making a big wet mess on the universe. Our lives are universal, and we need to find… Continue reading
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A Crab Crawl Crucifixion (Ending)
“You’re both wrong. This is an answer to my wish. You remember, Ed, I said I wanted a haircut and here it is, a place in the middle of deathly nowhere, a barbershop. Someone’s listening to me. It must be apocalyptic God or something.” Continue reading
cereal after sex 