“Here, read this. Forty-two words.” “Okay…” She reads. “I like it, but I don’t get where it says ‘explicably’.” “I meant ‘inexplicably.’” “Oh.” “Did you get that it’s at a hospital?” “Oh! No…” She reads again. “His leg is missing?” “Yeah.” “Ah!”
Category Archives: Mostly True
Eleven poems about my pitiful heartache. I looked up at the end to see no one. Somehow my reading had emptied the joint. I’m through with this city. Or it with me. Whichever. [A mirror cinquain, inspired by Yeah Write’s March poetry slam. I cheated a little by having three syllables on the first and lastContinue reading “Davis, California”
We’re waiting and joking anxiously outside the famous pizzeria. A meekly smiling man shuffles through, extending an upturned hand to each. A woman averts her nose. My hand stays in my pocket. Before leaving he frowns in genuine despair over his shoulder.
The Beaten Way
We mixed it with coke and read aloud the only play we had with two copies. “Thrift, Horatio!” “To a nunnery, go!” We stumbled, spake, drew swords. Morning found retched scrambled eggs on my bedroom rug. No method in it but friendship.
After dinner today my daughter remarked about how much alcohol I drink. “No offence,” she said. This elicited from me a dissertation on the health benefits of moderate alcohol consumption, which transitioned into a history of fermented beverages, upon which civilization as we know it depends. She immediately saw this as the elaborate rationalization itContinue reading “Alcohol”
Sending stories out to magazines reminds me of the day my daughter set up a stand in front of our house to sell paper puppies. Not a lot of foot traffic that day.
When he sat down at the computer terminal, he thought that maybe something good would come to his mind, and he would find himself in the midst of writing a great novel. How vain were his hopes in this regard? It might very well have happened. The fact that it didn’t, this time, should notContinue reading “Novel #1”
“Great news!” Salem sat down and leaned forward eagerly. He held a piece of paper in his hands. “We can pay you $1000 for your nice car!” He formed his mouth in the shape of a smile and set his frozen gaze on my wife.
The purpose of this blog will be to record my efforts as a writer. I’ll be posting publication announcements as well as pieces of writing I don’t intend to submit for publication anywhere. Let it be stipulated that I reserve the right to neglect this blog for months, even years, at a time. Under no circumstancesContinue reading “Blog Manifesto”