New World Writing

We were young Mormon girls incu­ri­ous about good groom­ing, resigned to greasy hair that stuck to our fore­heads and dan­druff from the dry salt air, itchy in our desert skin and mod­est in our dress. We were fas­ci­nat­ed with our flaws—even high­ly con­cerned –more

Inspired by New Frontier by Donald Fagen

My dad he’s crazy, but he’s smart, and he’s built a bunker to keep the plague, the reds, and the ram­pant fires away. We’re gonna have a shindig in here, he says, lug­ging in car­tons of beer, –more

In the Summer of his 42^nd year, D.B Welk was award­ed the Pritzker prize in archi­tec­ture for con­ceiv­ing a futur­is­tic apart­ment build­ing in Denver, Colorado with no park­ing spaces and no units larg­er than 300 square feet. He designed the struc­ture –more

Hey–is that you
On a bal­cony in
Some God-for­sak­en
Foreign land, on
A bal­cony in the
High moun­tains
With your feet up
On a plas­tic chair
Writing poet­ry?

Heartily sick, sick to the back teeth of these blast­ed Superdry sem­a­phores bear­ing down on every street and lane, whichev­er way you turn. A plague of dun­der­heads crawl­ing over the earth dis­play­ing their mem­ber­ship of the asso­ci­a­tion. Market –more

In those strange times, she began a new reli­gion, based entire­ly on the birds she could see from her win­dow. The win­dow was her tight view on the world, although it was no small­er than it had been. The world stretched beyond it, although it was no –more

Walk Like a Woodsman

A woods­man walks with a rolling motion sway­ing
to the step­ping side—it is chiefly a dif­fer­ence of hip
action loose­ness of joints

up-and-down knee action
springy with rather rigid hips—

car­riage erect
pace long
cen­ter of grav­i­ty secure
–more

Reprinted from Blip Magazine Archive Vol 13 No 4

I’m at my cousin’s house, watch­ing her fix din­ner for her twins, who are try­ing to toss them­selves out of their high­chairs. When I take care of them, my only goal is to keep them alive but I don’t –more

Samo je Početak

Already there is a man
in my mouth waiting
to lay eggs in

Me, the Kink

Once again with the recur­ring dream where I am on an air­plane that lands on a busy city street and just dri­ves around, wings and all.  I have no insight into its mean­ing, except to say “anx­i­ety,” which, in my expe­ri­ence, is the source of all. –more

Reprinted from NWW, Summer 2012

The week fol­low­ing his 60th birth­day, John Santo board­ed a train at Stuttgart, Germany. He was trav­el­ing alone. It was evening—the cold slapped the win­dow that pressed his cheek. The train jerked along and the side –more

Question:

If you run into the wife of the man you had an affair with, what do you say to her?

Do you say:
a) I am sor­ry fucked your hus­band, that was a real­ly dumb thing for me to do.
b) If it makes you feel bet­ter, it all came back around –more

Nonfiction

The Real Thing

A few days ago the Chinese con­vert, cab­bie Cha, more than a lit­tle tedious with his long drawn-out sto­ries from one of the less rep­utable hadiths it may have been involv­ing talk­ing she-camels what­not. Totally igno­rant of pace and –more

My Mother’s Song & Dance

The pho­to, creased & torn, fad­ed, tells the sto­ry
of my moth­er who sits on the porch steps,
one of the babies on her lap.

She’s wear­ing red wedge san­dals, a flow­ery cot­ton
house dress & an apron (she nev­er wore pants).
Behind her, –more