Tag Archives: Prose

The Sadness of Beautiful Things

Posted on August 15, 2018 by

Review of Simon Van Booy’s collection of stories, The Sadness of Beautiful Things. “O Lord, give us each our own death. Grant us the dying that comes forth from that life in which we knew love, grappled with meaning, felt … Continue reading →

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Nocturne on the Horizon

Posted on August 5, 2018 by

Cover reveal for my new novel, Nocturne Variations (coming this November).  Designed by Heather Ross. NOCTURNE VARIATIONS: Dystopic Peter Pan meets surrealist noir in this cinemythical tale about love, loss and the illusions of shadow-play. Los Angeles, December, 1989, is when … Continue reading →

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Pink Stucco

Posted on July 24, 2018 by

I tell her we need three days, alone, uninterrupted, in a pink stucco motel. She giggles. Why pink stucco? I don’t know, pink stucco is what I see. It’s you and me and the motel with the pink stucco exterior … Continue reading →

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The Fourth, or, The Great Big Bang

Posted on June 27, 2018 by

She wanted to celebrate the Fourth. She put on her Stars and Stripes panties. Packed her toy gun, the one with the BANG flag that unfurled, into her babyblue purse with silver sequins. After waggling her hips to emphasize the … Continue reading →

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Metamorphosis Variations

Posted on June 19, 2018 by

I. As I awoke one morning, from a blue-dark night of drinking and uneasy dreams, I found myself transformed into a cockroach. Figures it’d be a cockroach, skidded a deadpan between a head full of swollen thoughts.  With newfound prehistoric … Continue reading →

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Ghosting

Posted on June 15, 2018 by

(Excerpt from Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale) I closed my notebook and sat motionless at my desk for a long while, feeling flat and infirm. Then, not able to put it off any longer, it was time to disengage my … Continue reading →

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Scandinavia

Posted on June 14, 2018 by

(Excerpt from Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale)   I am standing over myself: a runt-skinny kid lying flat on his stomach, right elbow hunched, the stubby pencil in his left hand ferociously scribbling on a piece of unlined white paper.  … Continue reading →

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The Phantom Itch

Posted on June 12, 2018 by

(Excerpt from Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale) There’s not really a name for what I do.  I am not an investigative journalist, I am not a private eye.  I am not a minstrel essayist.  There are many things that I … Continue reading →

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Broken Land

Posted on June 12, 2018 by

The new edition of my first novel, Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale, is now available for preorder (Unsolicited Press), in anticipation of its official relaunch. ABOUT: A spectral, existential noir set against the aging irons of Coney Island and old guard lions … Continue reading →

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Claim

Posted on June 5, 2018 by

We slowdanced in a house of mirrors. Some of the mirrors had been burned in fires and showed black. Others were webbed in cracks. Still others bore dimensional distortions leading to instant surrealism. When I asked her which of her … Continue reading →

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