Tagged editor’s choice

Office Cauldrons

The man extends his hand. “We’ll be in touch.” And they were: Jeremy gets the job. The first morning, the alarm goes off at 6 a.m., he’s out of bed on the first shrill call to arms, into the shower, out of the cascade, quick-drying food washed away with coffee, suit laid out the night…

Kitsch-Value

The horses sleep in luxury stalls. We roll past subdivided mansions and loud domestic cars while a man in a nightshirt whispers “dope” to the swaying foam of his plastic cup. Gaslights flick and buzz. On the reddish frieze, the boxer’s cracked coconut face leaks. Me neat, you rocks, we skim a flotsam of bow…

Neon Love

Locked out, again. Neon didn’t bother pounding on the door. She leant her auburn ions against its flaking paint. Her body buzzed with electric sorrow. He had no idea how much energy she’d put into being who he wanted. Before he mooched into that lab, smelling of unlaundered clothes, bits of half-chewed chewing gum sticking…

God in Underwear

A Careerist in Wonderbra, everywhere She looked hung Her sparkling, floating fruits. Coolly inclined, yet fleet in coltish air—no union shop.   Her ruby throne floats aloft the nascent void. Below, a tribe of naked, scrappy, sweating cherubs inscribes Her word, remands to forge a fusty pair of virgin, sapphire tablets.   No, not a…

On Manet’s Le Dejeuner sur l’herbe

You can’t resist the humor of the notion The painting could be Burroughs’ inspiration for Naked Lunch. This cantankerous conversation with the history of art On the face of it strikes you as some kind of joke – It seems more some wag’s surgically witty snipe At the libertine French than a scene with serious…

What Counts in the End

What if we could get rich From experiences What if our time In exotic places Or even a walk in the woods Counted as valuables Raising our net worth in joy We could display Our adventures like jewels Laid out on a velvet cape My trips to Italy Could have bought a house My bliss…

The Rivals

Their rivalry had been afoot for a few years now. Both were well-regarded young writers of novels and short stories, and both men’s work appealed to much the same sophisticated readership. Some reviewers had even ventured to opine that the two were like two peas in a pod, and that their names might almost be…

It’s All Over

Whenever anyone at McDonald’s or any other place in his hometown of Lamesa, Texas, sixty miles south of Lubbock, would ask Sonny Echols Jr., “What’s it like over there?” he wouldn’t tell them about Royce Humphrey who burned alive in the Humvee in Rustamiyah, Iraq, October six, 2009, at 0800 hours in front of police…

Your Rapunzel I Have Heard

They sat on the beach, the girl with the crinkly hair and the girl with the secrets. The air, the light, the season were chocolate cherry liqueurs, heat bursting but outside, the chill. The girls had their hands in their pockets and the girl with the secrets felt her heart, when it beat, press inside…