Poetry to the ends of the earth i will take your hand. / smooth my thumb over the callouses / liver-spotted, amber nails cracked from worried teeth
Nonfiction My Life Has a Purpose, My Life Has a Plan Now he’s LA and airplanes and travels a lot. In high school Dane was “I don’t want anyone to know we’re related if you talk about church stuff” and “you can’t say that here.”
Flash Fiction Dinner for One: An Internal Monologue I cannot fathom sitting alone in a restaurant with a horde of costumed men breathing down my neck, pitying the lone eater, wondering how fast I will empty the table for a group of noisy jobless rich brats who would order five times more and tip a little too generously.
Nominated for Best of the Net 2024 It Girl Corpse: Or, I Cut up the National Enquirer and Turned It Into Shitty Poetry Love At First Like / FIND TRUE LOVE / talk about sex
Fiction Today, We Are Making Gazpacho There is almost no reason to make gazpacho at any other time of the year. Try to make this with winter grocery store tomatoes and it’ll be like drinking a Michelob Ultra instead of an actual beer.
Nonfiction The Dog Days of Living Just before midnight, my cousin, her owner, is asleep at a hotel in Florida that does not allow dogs, but is so luxurious that she would leave Holly in New Jersey under the care of a 21 year old.
Flash Fiction A Thief in the Caucasus Prometheus hadn’t seen a son so close in eons. He spoke words from Armenia, a tongue which demanded much from the throat.
Flash Nonfiction Spineless I swam. I dove under, let go of the float and remembered my body. I’ve been obsessed with invertebrates and wanted to be spineless. I came back to the surface and swam to the concrete retaining wall at the edge of the lake to pull myself out of the water.
Fiction Support Group for Miracle Survivors There were sympathetic yawns; everyone had heard all this before.
Nonfiction Surviving the Forest Perhaps it is my subconscious telling me to die in the pines and the snow, better than to die alone in the root cellar, where tossed-out tools are ornaments that shine and sing.
Poetry At Least Crows Plot Their Recklessness within me, maybe, when mother asked where did this all start?
Poetry Have You Ever Been Asked To Leave An Airport Chili’s? Tell me where to go, what to do / when I get there. Just bring me / best practice, nothing that will blur
Flash Nonfiction I'm Sorry We're Getting Married I love you, Harry. And I’m excited that we can be married for most of our lives. What does that mean, though, when we can already love each other for most of our lives whether the government is involved or not.
Poetry Show Me the S on Your Chest when every night terror wakes / and feeds on the ice / unchecked in your veins
Nonfiction Did Being Neurodivergent Mean I Hated Boybands and Mondays? ‘I’m a freak, I'm a weirdo, what the hell am I doing here, I don’t belong here’ -Creep, Radiohead 1992
Flash Fiction Film School Planet The phantom trapped inside appeared before the critic on his couch and offered him the customary three wishes.
Flash Fiction Richard Zenith I’d stolen it accidentally when I lived across from LA City College from in front of an ostentatious antiques store two blocks from my studio, a dingy shop I supposed was in foreclosure but was actually holding an outdoor sale.
