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My muses have amusing waysof teasing me on silent daysby giving me no words to writeuntil I try to sleep at nightthen hide the notepad I keep nearand dry my pen so that no tearof ink will cry upon the page,thus leaving me a nightmare’s ragewhich twists my dreams inContinue Reading

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My stepson only eats hamburgersand fries. And chicken nuggets.Nary a vegetable or piece of fruit. And whydoesn’t he get scurvy and die? He never goes outside. Zeroexposure to the sun. Just stays in his roomplaying video games all day. And whydoesn’t he get rickets and die? Just look at hisContinue Reading

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Eugene & EugeniaOn their honeymoonFinally entwinedIn the ampersandWhich separatedThe italic letteringOf their namesOn wedding invitationsSupersedeThe eugenics initiativesOf sansevieria-tongued mothers-in-lawEugenia’s ovumA planet-sized Gordian KnotWhich Eugene’s spermatozoonPierces like Alexander’s swordTo procreate the jejune EuphrosyneWho nonetheless will evolve rapidlyTo befriend textile and tektiteBoth terrestrialAnd extraterrestrial textsWho eschewing Iphigenian virtuesAn Aegean Agamemnon’sDrunken narcissistic bluesWillContinue Reading

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The Last Train is sleeping now,her keeper has locked her safely away.The last drinkers have left the pub,and are watching the driftas their unsteady walkguides them home.The rain keeps me company,as does the Hedgehogthat slowly crosses my path,he is a spiky footballwith a mind of his own.The last Train driverContinue Reading

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Icarus had told Eeyore they could never be friends‘Eeyore, I am not like you, not like you at all,I have no time for self-pity, no time to stop and stare,I need to build these wings and take to the air. Eeyore had felt sad.He knew that Icarus saw the skyContinue Reading

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I am tying myself into knots. I undo them and redo them. I am myself knots. I undo and redo. I am knots. I undo them. I knot myself. Undo and redo. I am tying knots into myself. I redo and undo and undo and redo. I am myself, tyingContinue Reading

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i found a discarded memoryin the bluenessof my mindit was covered withan outgrowth of achild that livedin a treehousecovered with a protrusion of greenit was in the wee hoursof that foggy morningwhen small birdscreated new songsfrom old imagessketched from the projectionof knotted twine from their nestpainted withemotional whispersthat was anContinue Reading

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The raucous sea, far belowan outgrowth of colorful flowerswafting fragrances into the air,its undulant swelling movementcarries the tide surging toward shore,its waves heaved high into the air,with splashes of briny teal,topped with white whiskers,like an old man with his restlessness. James is a retired professor and octogenarian. He is aContinue Reading

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(after Henry Darger’s collection, as told by Olivia Laing) amazing howbits of stringconnect the daysdarn up the weak spotsentertain the eyeflower in a dark roomgutter rescuedhandled carefullyimagine being threaded through a cityjust as you were falling apartknots to puzzle over at nightlines crossing lines, patterningmyriad layers appearing asnesting material forContinue Reading

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Z.B. Wagman is an editor for the Deep Overstock Literary Journal and a co-host of the Deep Overstock Fiction podcast. When not writing or editing he can be found behind the desk at the Beaverton City Library, where he finds much inspiration.Continue Reading