Tag Archives: novel

Anya Rising

(Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn.)    I see her rising off the bathroom tiles, toes pointing downward.    I know this is a dream but I also know this actually happened, once, a long time ago.    Except then Anya … Continue reading

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Fictioning Anya

   (Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn.)    Anya, Julia weighed the name softly on her tongue. Anya. Wait, she was the one they found in the trashcan when she was a baby, right?    The one and only.    Yes … Continue reading

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Angels with Dirty Laundry

Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn, novel-in-progress.    The binge ended. It could have been longer, could have been worse. It was what it was and while there was residual shame and disquiet, there was also gratitude that I had stumbled … Continue reading

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The Fat Woodworker

   Se non e vero, e’ ben trovato  (“Even if it is not true, it is a good story”).    I learned this Italian phrase from a man I met at a bar in Venice Beach.    The man, a … Continue reading

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Gravesite

  My father and I visited my mother’s grave. Nothing about it felt profound or moving. It felt like a prescribed exercise in courtesy, a bland ritual.    One thing that gave it a dramatic feel: it was raining.     … Continue reading

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I Sing the Body Defective

Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn, novel-in-progress.    Me and Jake are Charlie are at the Body Rub joint.    Jake is treating me to a massage. He offers to treat Charlie too, but Charlie declines. He says he’ll be happy … Continue reading

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Father, I

   I’ve been waiting for you to exist, I say to my father, even though he is not there.    What?    I’ve been waiting for you to exist, to become real. Me too.    What the hell are you … Continue reading

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Sideshow

   I, perched on a craggy promontory overlooking my childhood, and its entire formless geography, saw them, my friends, all of them: a mutant strain of cryogeny, a mummified quivering changelessness, as if youth hadn’t been properly lived through but … Continue reading

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Anya in the Forest

   In the dream my mother and me are sitting in the lobby of a restaurant. We are waiting to be seated for dinner.    The hostess comes up to me and asks me if I am ­­­ ________. I … Continue reading

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Anya at Night

   Late summer.    Anya and I are on a walking tour of the park at night. The 40oz. bottles of Olde-E we are carrying are concealed inside brown bags. We detour at the playground, where Anya plants herself on … Continue reading

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