The Evil Fred
Short Story Not a lot of people liked me. I didn’t do the stuff they did. I couldn’t play sports, and I had a small stutter, which made it hard to talk to...
Image Curve Blog
Possibility
Poem Music in the sea of light Take my imagination And childhood sigh I wonder where I’m going Everyday of my life Never feel like staying There’s too much more to strive for...
Blackbird Artist
Poem Something drips, Thick like candle-wax, Warm like blood, From the top of the canvas down to the bottom, Making a jet-black streak on the blinding white. A pair of wings shadows the...
Big Wheel Stunts
The rumbling of my Big Wheels on the blacktop. The pulled handle break, the spin out, and the way I face the way I’ve come. How fast could I ride down the hill of...
Dream October 2012
I was a gypsy child last night. My skin tanned by countless days beneath the sun of our forest. Only about 13 or 14. When the soldiers come and separate us, I recall glimpses...
Time Travel; Before Change, Still Hope
Spoken Word Tight curls diligent enough to wrap around the idea of my finger large eyes soaking up the world like the biscuit Momma made; every last drop of gravy belonged to it like...
A Forgotten Sentry
Deep emerald maple leaves blossom on my neighbor’s tree. The trunk—in shadow—looks almost black. It casts little shade over the aging, clubhouse-swing set that my neighbor worked so hard to erect. The one no...
The Human Comedy: Moses Went Down to George’s
Short Story When Moses made it to George Bernstein’s Yom Kippur “Break the Fast” dinner at 6:00 p.m. — the time Facebook said it started — he was the first guest to arrive. “How long will...
Small Talk 1 – Babel
Short Story You want another coffee? Yes. Two more coffees then please. Make mine long. Mine too. So two long? Americanos? No, not that long. Two regular long? Yes. What was I saying, ah...
Bronx Zoo Visit, 7/16/14
moving dinosaurs the animatronics that bring battles to life his smile when T-Rex downs triceratops The tiger lies on his side, eyes closed. Another one—the next enclosure over—at least lifts his head. As indifferently...
A Steed Indeed
Poetry My teacher had 4 legs And cared not for me We watch bulls and bull riders and I always said I would hold on How hard could it be? Oh, I held on...
