When the Smoke Clears

It is that kind of summer when all your fucks and waste and wading hang out and you are being swallowed half way and sucked on the rest you are returning spit and there is a quilt that don’t get as dark as the black comforter your mama threw away there are...

Places Satellites Go To Die

Just a few days short of our tenth wedding anniversary, my wife asks me if I’ve ever heard of the Poles Of Inaccessibility. Naturally, I lie and turn away. My attentions are elsewhere, what with the match being on and us the wrong side of a one nil score line, in a...

Duckfeet

You can’t resist looking in the mirror. Like this time you might see something different. Maybe a lanky shortstop after a promising rookie season with a couple of four-hit days and an eleven-game hitting streak. Or a gigolo with a waxed mustache and a busty blonde...

5 Role-Playing Scenarios

1.   You: mailman Me: an orange   Juice me with your mailman thighs Make me pulp citrus quench queen Mat the hair curling out of your short brown shorts with sticky juice Slosh me in your cupped hands Your cupped hands whose fingers could have ripped open so...

A Prime Family

MY SON, ELDEST (15 YEARS): Cringes at the smell of porcelain dolls and their paper skirts. Only speaks riddled phrases in the nighttime by my bedside. Is silent except for the parrotlike cawing. Is silent excluding rickety nails against blackboard walls. Makes his own...

Words for Snow

Nobody tells the truth about childhood. Not even me, though I will try. As a child I recall writing a story about First Nations, about a caribou hunt and a girl who pretended to be a boy so that she could hunt. These days that would be considered cultural...

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