Tag Archives: Prose

Sonata of the I

The hatless pilgrim, roving this way and that, a man embodying the virtues of scat (in every sense of the word), roving through starched cardstock fields in search of an impossible flower and its stingy nettles—proud, pistil-engraved, the flower’s gullet … Continue reading

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Beckett’s Sonata

A hatless pilgrim, roving this way and that, a man embodying scat (in every sense of the word), wandering through starched cardstock fields in search of a stingy flower, proud, pistil-engraved, the flower’s gullet scorched by streaks of sungold (this, … Continue reading

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Outlaw Country

“Outlaw Country,” an excerpt from my novel, None So Distant, published in Spare Parts Literary Magazine as part of their From the Desk series: Reports of fringy lore on lost highways. Point-counterpoint in a twangy battle of wills. Stay tuned. … Continue reading

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Directions Home

Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, and Carl Jung walk into a bar in heaven…

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Lives in the Day Of

One of my recent projects has been compiling stories and flash fiction into a collection titled: Lives in the Day Of. After selection, rewriting, and editing, the collection comprises twenty-two pieces, spanning the past fifteen years. Some of these works … Continue reading

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Brooklyn Spleen

We didn’t talk about it, but we knew we’d never amount to anything, no matter what we did. No matter how celebrated the accomplishment, no matter how big the fiction and the audience buying it, nothing could ever fill those … Continue reading

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The Last of the Coojettes

She was the Last of the Coojettes. That’s what Rob called her. Rob was my mother’s cousin. My father’s nickname for Rob was The Moron. Rob worked as a postman. My father worked as a truck driver for Budweiser. Rob … Continue reading

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Death Rides in on a Pony

When Death showed up on a broken-down pony, I scoffed. This, really? What, Death said, looking around, unsure as to who or what I was referring. You’re Death, right? Yes. THE Death? You can check my I.D. And you’ve come … Continue reading

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New York Story

When the bird hit me in the side of head, I had no idea what had happened. It felt like someone had blindsided me with a loaded handbag. I clutched at air and went down immediately. I didn’t feel any … Continue reading

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Theme for a High School Dance

There is a rumor that Laura Palmer is going to be at the dance. While you don’t know her personally, all you can think about is the exquisite mystique of her televised corpse, and how her voice, on a karmic … Continue reading

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