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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    He clears his throat And approaches his pulpit Camouflage falling away; There's no more scope to hide behind But the scope of his words And they twist in their too-small seats Yawning off a night of empty conversation When he does it They're engaged in their own petty grievances ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A little boy wakes up, and he grabs his nightlight "What did you see?" he asks, Holding the bulb close to his heart. "Is there life through my eyelids?" Because the boy can't carve a third eye from his race cars and his model fortresses He can't consult the angel-h...
  • Reviews > Movie Reviews
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    I wanted to love Zack Snyder’s “Man of Steel”. I really did. I may be the only living, breathing piece of flesh on this earth that genuinely reveres his adaptation of “Watchmen”—I find it artful without being pretentious and its moral conflicts to be equally as compelling as anything pro...
  • Fiction > Scripts & Plays
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    SCENE 8 [As Laura’s candles go out, Tom stumbles into a bar. The bar is dimly lit, its sparse interior emerging onstage exactly in sync with the end of his monologue. He is no longer in St. Louis, but he has not gone far. The bar is small and dank and as claustrophobic to the audience as it is ...
  • Poetry > Song Lyrics
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    Father, please forgive me This cannot wait I have sinned I was dealt a losing hand at this game I can't win There's a place I know Where they serve you a full silver plate I can't get there yet No, I'm too far in debt to fate You can dwell on dreams Tell me "not...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    As the storm subsides Outside, an internal wave erupts With the fiendish glow of the fire Captured in the flick of his wrist While our lungs savor the sweet nectar of new life An old one manifests in the worn silverware That never new how to stack correctly I never knew how either But he t...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    today was one of the most emotionally turbulent days of my short life (save for the series finale of that’s so raven). it did not deal with death or disease or financial turmoil or any other sort of tangible, capital-s shift. it dealt with my sense of home. my roots. the things that, whether i am ...
  • Reviews > Music Reviews
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    “Ceremonials” has been one of my favorite albums for quite some time now. When it was released, I knew little about Florence Welch, the face of “the Machine.” I knew she could sing, I knew she was tall, and I knew she had fiery red hair and sort of resembled Tori Amos. I also knew I found he...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    Ten. The number of fingers we’re born into the world with. The number of days ancient warriors spent training until they were considered combat-ready. Combat. That’s what it took. One man’s combat. Combat to break it. To break ten. One man’s selfless raging of psychological war on the shackl...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am from the painted walls Whose sheens do chip with hate, And I am from a people who arrive at love too late; The tintinnabulation of our desecratoin swells Until our ears, stained red with blood, are ringing like the bells. A picture's worth a thousand words A whisper's worth a fe...

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