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  • Fiction > Romance
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    In the bed, hands cupped around one’s own breasts, knowing other hands know just as well, you allowed them to, it’s embarrassment. Get out of bed and the creak rings out alone, no creak to follow it, and it’s melancholy. The walk to the bathroom, hallway tile cold beneath bare feet, is lonely....
  • Poetry > Ballad
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    On the crest of the coast where they drag teal sheets they set upon the sand with rolled up denim knees In the cooler, cobalt cola cans sit nestled in the ice for thirsty little swimmers who've salt stuck in their eyes Between navy painted toes the sand grains congregate as she gazes e...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    cheap red plastic sort of reminds me of the way your lips curled up in some kind smile, i guess you could call it. the kind of smile that wakes me up in the middle of the night, has me thinking was it sincere? did i do it right? did you think i was good enough? what did i do wrong? a...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    little worms crawl out of your ear balls at night when you let the silence crush you, heavy and metal cracking your ribs making you look up at the ribbed ceiling, making you see patterns on the walls and making you think so hard your hard wires hardly wire up anymore hardwired not for t...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    if i wrote a letter i would write it with a big old yellow crayon on a stiff piece of green construction paper stolen from the back of a kindergarten classroom under the sink, sift through the drawers don't wake the hamsters nibbling the cage screaming get me out! i would smile at...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    how are you? i'm fine no, really, how are you? discontent. just discontent? feel my hand, it's shaking i woke up this morning the smell of PTA smothering me by the shape of my mother's hands tapping on the bedroom doorway. wake up, she says. in the shower i think of the hole i'm burni...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    There are three things I cannot stand about my mother: 1. She’s very into the whole “Told you so” business 2. Contrary to her very strong belief, she couldn’t carry a tune if it were strapped down with bungee cords and nailed to a bucket. 3. She insists on making spaghetti dinner about th...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    In this city, There are children They live in apartment complexes Crammed together smelling Body odor, Chinese food, laundry detergent, Urban rats seek out dead cats In the storm drains In this city, There are children And they leave little plastic tricycles Face-planted on the soggy lawn...

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