On:

I could do small things. Last spring, I shelled the whole pea patch. Mom kissed my green-stained palms and told me I was good. I could sing under my breath so the prairie wind would not hear. Every day I sang as I carried water to the house, the nakedContinue Reading

On:

First, my neighbor became a cowboy. Then, when his wife divorced him, he became a bandit in a mask. Overnight, he lost access to his house and became something like a raccoon. He dug through our trash. I caught him. He denied everything in the beam of my flashlight. AContinue Reading

On:

Not being one to like crowds much, Hiram Mitchell had stopped his horse down the street, far enough to be away from the people and close enough to see the scaffold. He checked his watch and found it was 11:40, which was a little early to his taste since theyContinue Reading

On:

The old man, tired, hungry, sunburned, and sore, pushed himself through the saloon doors, his joints creaking louder than the creaky old hinges. Inside the bar, his feet fell on even creakier floorboards, and he heard the wobbly strains of a honky-tonk piano, even creakier still. He had a headache,Continue Reading

On:

My brother’s ankle grew like a balloon. He dragged it around and bumped into things. ‘What’s happening to me?’ he said. He said it always and threw his hands down, having kicked over a train set. ‘I blame you,’ he said. ‘You’re a bad brother.’ Once I blindfolded him andContinue Reading

On:

It was the first day this town had seen a woman marshal. On my way into town all the locals were givin’ me nasty looks, but it wasn’t gonna despair me. I was there to do a job and that’s what I was gonna do. I didn’t have time forContinue Reading

On:

West   A rough place I return to often. The wildness of blood between my legs. A savage quiet when the cicadas finally sleep. Heartbreak like hard candy. Slow orange days slicked down with aloe. My feet fighting with the sand. Hammering stakes down. Always conquering something or other. RibbonsContinue Reading

On:

The cowboy built a small playground for the orphans. The orphans swarmed him. He picked them up on his shoulders. He made them fly like airplanes. The cowboy’s bones grew brittle. The children pointed their hands like guns at him when they saw him. The cowboy had a nightmare. TheContinue Reading

On:

If I don’t have to be awake,I won’t. Fuck you, and your world. The west, where the sun sets, is death.The sun, born in the east, dies in the west. Fuck you, and your death world. Your endgame. Dumbfucking rednecks,and their conservative think tank sugar daddies,play up the myths. RoundContinue Reading