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I knew since long ago, a curse walking into, on a saturday morning. A reflection from a shattered mirror the night before, the curse crawls up, from the abyss, bald, 210lbs, and way too old to exist. It knocked me out, with a bloody face, in the morning. It burnedContinue Reading

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My throat is riddled with holes for rocks to grow in,  little white bits.  You put your  tongue in and I wonder, do you feel it?  Can you slip between  the filled up, crumbling, rank red cells? My throat is cryptic, dead things hidden in the  moist dark.  I putContinue Reading

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When I hear the key in the lock, I get scared. I forgot to find a place to hide so I have to jump to it. The apartment is real small but in the corner by the one window there are long curtains so I tuck myself up in themContinue Reading

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All I wanted was a white sheet in a white room and your milk body, too. A bed where each time you’d make me a stranger       and we could frenzy                          like moths tethered to light.   A temporaryContinue Reading

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An unexpected inheritance— on one condition. Just one night, no big deal. Uncle Jim was always such a joker. Easy money though, flip the land after. Someone’s always building condos. Don’t be so sure, I’m told. Don’t you know? Spooky house, that one. Ghosts? Chock full. Surely not this vinylContinue Reading

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Where do they go? Where should I put them? They reach out uncontrolled at the slightest relaxation, to wreak havoc and panic. There’s no escape then. Everything is exposed. Anything can happen. And even though nothing much ever does, it’s always disturbing. Lately I’ve been lucky with two close-calls. AllContinue Reading

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For a time my brother lived under the floor. We knew that if he bit us, we would die. My father and I went finding fallen branches. We turned them into firewood. We kept on rubber boots. We weren’t to move about the house without them. Only once in bedContinue Reading

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Our town had become overrun with men dressed like babies. You would see them in the shadows. Even in the cold. They are not unlike the clowns of Exeter. They spread out on all fours. They weigh from one hundred to two hundred pounds.  I met one baby in aContinue Reading

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These are men in blue jeans. They have a handle on the neighborhood. They cultivate a bush. They hunch around and keep it secret.  They surround the bush like plumbers on a problem. Children come over. They try to get a glimpse of the bush. Boys peer at it. TheyContinue Reading

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The historical society kept no record of the girl’s birth, just a rushed account of her finding as an infant washed up on the beach, rosy and plump as a sea urchin. Two local workers from the nuclear power plant upstream discovered her on their smoke break and promptly droppedContinue Reading