Body like an hourglass slowly losing sand. Body like an avalanche things buried deep. Body like a breakfast cereal snap crackle pop-Pop-POP! Body like a pillow crumpled under arms. Body like a sheet pulled up to the chin. Body like a hardback read too many times. Body like mine, like swine so heavy-short-fat … Continue reading About a Body
A blustery Sunday afternoon, snow falling in fat too-wet-to-stay flakes mixing with slow raindrops more typical of early spring. I'm bundled inside a worn leather booth, warmed by the industrial heater vent above me and the pitcher of boozy lemonade sweating on the table. A lazy hour ticks by and I'm swimming in it now, … Continue reading April 8 : Sunday in Spring
Fontana, 4 (Via County Road) It's still night when I cruise-- down the highway's broad curving brushstrokes of dark pavement and rock-strewn shoulders, my car click-click-clicking as I wait for a pair of headlights, shaking and yellowed, to lumber past me before I swing wide onto the county road. I look for the old white … Continue reading April 4 : Fontana, 4 (Via County Road)
As you lay this body down, down on cold hard forest ground-- split it open and salt inside, cut out spots where demons hide. Grind the bones to make your bread and forget about your empty bed. A wolf circles-- your quiet crypt keeper to greet this new death like winter's Reaper. Falling leaves will … Continue reading April 2 : Winter
Chapter One If one more gin-soaked asshole tries to grab me tonight, I swear, I’ll go to jail for murder, Annabeth thought as she squeezed between two rowdy bar tables. It was a Saturday night in June, and The Neptune was full of land-hungry fishermen and city folk from Seattle looking for the rustic charm … Continue reading Annabeth by the Sea : Chapter One
Typewriter Moon 