Chili powder, baby powder, clam chowder. My wife would pack gunpowder if TSA allowed her. You never know when you might need to improvise an explosive to blast your way through a damned fine dead end are words she actually said once (we were already married). Like what!? I asked, thinking surely she’d struggle to…
Databits jangling skullcore, overhead swing, busted box Cyberpunk spacetech wirehaven nightmaredream, Home is in a metal box, in another metal box, in space Sleepycircuit flustermorning jitterbeep Digital coffee, electronic steam Yeah, we’ve got all the tastes and flavors of Earth, baby, and Shit you’ve never experienced before – Darkshade caffeinemax brainmelter mochas, Darker than the…
Clanking chain, the claw that snags, the boat wind-bumped beside the Bat Islands I heard as bad, chop-tossed in my bunk all night I didn’t sleep lost in fear forged from everything I didn’t know and don’t, hear anchor and think anvil heavy under hammer and spark. Say spark and I hear fat rain hissing…
River ice jamstuck bridgebent, bang crackpop. He boards his jeep then engines it alive with a twist the big clattering tit & rather than wrangle away straightaway as we all thought he might he sat there contemplating his poopec, bridgebent with his window down & pouring in, flecking his button-down shirt summer rains that somehow…
Side by side they sit in a long row lined up from practical to the most theoretical. Questions of every stripe, from quiet and unassuming to so loud they cannot be drowned out. They often go to bed with you only to awaken you in the morning tapping on your skull like woodpeckers hard at…
You mumble, your head burps nonsense, words a river of babble-rousing slippitude. Your foot is sucked into your mucky mouth. Roughly hewn orange trees produce fleshy furniture for unforgettable chatter that exists only in your shower along with the mildew creeping up like kudzu. Notes are stuffed into your pockets along with old lottery tickets…
You mumble, your head burps nonsense, words a river of babble-rousing slippitude – lids close like Viked pythonic lips. You don’t see me, fingers flexed, lusting. You’ll never open your eyes…again. Thank you. We’ll be in touch. he tucked his tail and scrabbled into the hall, past rows of dudes disarmingly like him, cigarette sparked…
On this summer morning, when I was perhaps ten years old, my mother drove our old Ford rattledy-clank over the loose boards of the connecting bridge to the island. It made me think of “The Three Billy Goats Gruff.” But our passage would not be challenged by a troll, just a wizened security guard. “Probably…
Abe Lincoln just came back and started taking selfies. Meanwhile, the hipster army turned every bar into a museum with names like “Where are all the honest men?” Witches were flying matchsticks ‘round the minimum wage, daily pay crowd, flaunting faces like goblins and legs of steel. The cowboys paid no mind and were riding…
He climbed the ladder to wash windows before company was due to dine outside on stellar lemon salmon from the Weber where he cooked without the taint of lighter fluid. His left hand grasped a ladder rung while his right hand sprayed Windex. She knew him to be erudite. He read the daily news thoroughly…
