Up and down along the road I go. The same road. Yellow strips the only thing protecting one car from another. A hopeful calculus for the anxious. A misery for a mightnight rider belly-packed with beer. Past the coffee — wicked, bitter grounds fine as fog, an...

There’s a mirror in the bed with glassy, fragile breasts like ferrofluid sacks. Aye, the wizard sits on high with spells of unrelenting electromagnetism, sending waves of the invisible stuff through the air and into the small puddle of obsidian trapped within each...

Welcome to actual hell. I can see here the truck, pulling up a new thumping, clacking blue body to exorcise into its open back. The crush of tin and glass plays on a steel cage. Sometimes at night. Sometimes at day. Sometimes at dusk but never in that perfect golden...

Reminds me of herself. The campus is lit with little auras of tungsten-yellow that hang overhead. Halos between lightposts are always almost close enough to touch. But that would cause the atom to split, so they stay well enough apart. We decide to take a...

I watched the fan again, but just for a little because watching the fan is boring. It spun on the ceiling, as it is made to do. Confirmed. But the fan is more intriguing than it lets on. You see, it doesn’t push the air around. It sucks it up or something. It pulls it...

His mouth is covered, but I can still hear him. I only know it’s covered because it sounds covered. He may have his hand over it, so I don’t see his teeth. He doesn’t know I can’t see him at all. Or maybe he does. “You know that you slice and dice, right?...

The grip of every last computer driven by the coalescing scent of punchout silicone. I am guarded. I know it. You know it. So why belay the righteous fact of life in which we pull asunder our recognition of the world we live in? Curly hair bounces in the seam,...

She cries when she shits — right after, rather — to warn me that she’ll be pawing at the litterbox for the next ten minutes in a vain attempt to make it disappear. The apartment complex must be rife with predators: a condor here, a komodo dragon slinking along just...

The wriggling is a natural assumption. We can feel him in the folds of a coil like a mobius strip that ends at some point — right when our lifeline gets cut by the dull scissors of fate. And at the holy end I can hear the man in leather fighting with his Zippo. I walk...

There’s this movement of the little leaves that bristle when the AC turns on. They brush up to hug the blinds. They crinkle like rainwater hitting the window through the screen — this little scream. Fortuitous, maybe, in the throes of some moving agony that they can’t...