Short Fiction and Poetry

As far back as my mind can envision, our large eclectic, extended family convened at my grandparents’ Victorian house [...]

Do  memories  lie forgotten,  buried deep beneath some foreign plot of soil? [...]

Liam and Mick had hatched a plan. They needed some cash for they were broke. They used to care for an older man who’d died that day of a massive stroke. [...]

To look at me is to know I shouldn’t and don’t want to be here, [...]

I enjoy writing with my hand much more than typing email messages Says my wife as she pauses to lift her pen from the stationery paper[...]

When the last whisky bottle wakes up empty, filled up with silence, I'm left with a feeling that isn't withdrawal or craving, [...]

Something hot to eat with something cold to drink. I see you lick an ice cream cone, and now I want one too. I check my phone for a text, an update, a sign, I sigh. [...]

Detonate is as good a word as any, good, say, as kiss, usually less personal but delivering as much feeling—[...]

We name the hurricanes and columns of winds. What will I tell this little breeze who asks why we have no name for it. [...]

If you ask ten or thirty people whom they hate, they say they've never hated anyone. So why don't people shoot up when the chair says: [...]

A rectilinear pool. Immersed and still, we’re inside Rothko’s painting: [...]

They don’t ask if you are a juggler, when you inquire about laser vision correction, [...]

Today I am held at arm’s length from my dreams. The fog envelops the velvet hand that holds them up to an invisible sun. [...]

A corpse came out to play, unknowing.  Today he plays the part of a man,  he doesn't need shoes where he's going. [...]

A yellow petal. Also a balcony made of stone. A light to light words at the nocturne. Below a group of stray dogs run through, beige [...]

I'm a poet who drinks only red wine. When inebriated with earthly delusion and desire, I crawl inside this empty bottle [...]

Enough beer in my sails and I will declaim till the proverbial cows fly over the gate, [...]

They are bailing water, my tears, from the sinking ship like Alice. I remember coaxing plums into my mouth in September [...]

And then one day I knew I must find Zakarias. I remembered his name from my childhood, spoken of softly and with reverence [...]

My father and I go to the city dump. Amid the mountains of smell and scurrying rodents, we're looking for the trash of others [...]