Rhonda was surprised to find a white envelope addressed to her in the mailbox one night. She had just gotten home from work and decided to do her friends a favor by bringing the mail in. Since she had only been living at the house for a few weeks, she was pleased to see her name on an envelope. What didn’t please her, however, was the return address. “Sam Harris,” the top line said. Her heart sank. What did he want now? Rhonda had broken up with him, her boyfriend of six y...

A black plastic pen is branded Mexico  in all caps. Ink files out the nib, forming black lines, assembling characters, constructing words, grossing white pages. Over time, the ink dries in the well, the nib ceases production. The pen is discharged. A replacement is deployed to gross more white pages.    

 The UT shuttle swung through the bus circle with a swirl of leaves in its wake. I tossed the empty bottle I had been shifting between hands and stepped toward the bus as it stopped. Its door snapped open, and the driver raised his palm to my face.  “Got your ID?” he asked. I was flustered. “Since when do I need an ID?” “Since seven, when we combine routes,” he said. My cheeks grew hot. A crowd of students had gathered behind me, and I felt their...

Stained coffee mugs sit upside down. Mold islands float in glasses of old purple juice. Golden cheese fossilizes on a cast iron skillet. Oatmeal oozes off a faux bamboo spoon. Before the woman’s invasion of the house the sink was a portrait of perfect; porcelain and stainless steel, still stainless, sans scarring dish. The invader posted a chore list on the fridge. Wednesday became sink cleaning day. Wednesday crept into Thursday, which skipped to Friday and which rolled into never. ...

it was really hard cooking after me and the guy i was living for split up i had to cook for his ghost until i found the other plate uneaten too many times i would buy cheap ingredients and use mother’s recipes and get flustered because i always had to figure out how to make half a dish then I still had leftovers melancholy pathetic pieces of petrified crap that i could never bring myself to eat

Dear Kitten, I must confess to you You long ago caught My wondering eye On a humid September day That packed Dillo So zen-like you sat Your smart, black clothing Such a becoming, Cautionary display To the rest of us Lecherous fools My wonder stalks you daily Now since September Early mornings in the lounge I watch, highly intrigued, As, under a sheath Of long thick bangs Your diamondesque eyes Cut innocuous glares Befuddling doll droids Tromping to mundane chores Kitten! I must ask! Should we...

A shy moon hides its face Behind dark clouds In my imagination’s playground As I twist my swing chains Tighter and tighter Hoping you’ll get Closer and closer And I nervously burrow Awkward double left feet Into the sand and rocks Bats, snakes, lizards, and feral cats Surround us, north, east, south, and west. Between comfortable silences We trade Vonnegutian valentines… If I can be your Mona Ammons Monzano, Will you be my Kilgore Trout, And write me some science fiction No one else will care...

Ingredients: 1 story Lots of hype A few overpaid, expensively clothed, well-coifed anchorpeople Directions: Take story and marinate it in your favorite bias until unrecognizable. Mix in coverage of a natural disaster. Sprinkle in-season alarmist health concerns. Add a few drops of your favorite color terror alert. Serve on a bed of tickers. Serves to the mass public at least 24 times a day

the tumblers in the lock rusted some time ago now not even a skillfully maneuvered bobby pin can coax the tumblers to move the door open i've auditioned all the bridges in town, hoping none will collapse over a cardboard house cardboard doesn't rust

John-Boy meets a Jew What’s a mountain boy to do Diff’ rent point of view Boy becomes a man Bar Mitzvahs can be so grand They all want to go Father says “Oh no! Baptists at a Bar Mitzvah?” Jewish boy gets mad Boy speaks to rabbi “Walton boys are my friends now Please let them attend” Bar Mitzvah goes on Appalachian boys are there Good night John Boy…