Fact and Fiction
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Alligator Martinis
The street was wet with rain and warped neon. I stepped into a bar and lounge called Cucumber. That’s it. Just Cucumber. It was just me and my raincoat. The place was loud, and I worked my way through the nightlife haze until I found a small table. I looked around and realized that everyone… Continue reading
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Cracker Barrel on Crack
The ebb and flow of the Jesus crowd washed nostalgic candies into the streets of LipLock, Tejas on a sweltering Sunday school day gone mad. The bacon was loaded. Mosaic scrawlings of jelly looked like sparkling guts on the sourdough. Coffee was but swirling blood fueled by cream and sugar. The roar of the hungry… Continue reading
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The Gravy Canoe of Wild Wyoming – 3
He liked the way her mouth stretched out and showed off her big sparkly teeth when she smiled or laughed. They reminded him of polished ivory Chicklets. Continue reading
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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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Crock Potting in Serial Killer Forest (The First of Unknown)
I was never really the terrible one. I only wanted to be loved, but that never came. Instead, I only got a death wish. But that was then, and this is now, and now I’m flying a bush plane is Alaska. I’ve got a little place made of wood and river stones that sits near… 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
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Things to Do In Denver When You’re Hip and Super Fresh
The mercury red was dripping through the lights of the downtown bars – it was blood running through rainbows and icy chalices clinking with the rhythm of this night beat Continue reading
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Albuquerque French Fries
The mountains in Albuquerque are to the east. In most places I’ve lived, they were to the west. I always found that to be a bit strange, but maybe it’s not. But I was on the east side of Albuquerque, close to the mountains, when I was suddenly struck with an insatiable desire for French… Continue reading
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Bong Clerk
I felt a Rikki Tikki Tavi ghost ship cut through my spleen as I walked across the lot and into the shoppe. The place smelled of incense and painted wood and old linoleum and lingering clouds of grass. Continue reading
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The Escape Artist
Memories are deposited, the pains and joys withdrawn – it’s like black-and-white Poland to me, wandering in rags, sleeping in parks, losing muscle just to hustle. Continue reading
cereal after sex 