very small dogs

Hey Look, He Listens to Christian Rock

2009-07-01T11:49:00.001-07:00

Paddle boats swamped in seal-haired girls, red-water pavilions of pizza and fudge, the blue blubber of dad’s white neck—swum in a sea of stupidity. He fingered the comb in his pocket, knew it’d never make a difference. All he could trust in was Jesus, stupid savior, beautiful boy.

Deep Falls (2007-08)

2009-06-23T07:08:00.001-07:00

Baltimore & Allegan Thruway

2009-06-21T07:51:00.000-07:00

My dad's from Allegan, MI and now lives here in Baltimore. Made this for Father's Day.

Wall Collage

2009-06-03T10:22:00.000-07:00

[Birthday: All his objects passed across the water, joining the longest stretch of lawn anyone had ever seen.]

Collage 05

2009-05-31T09:13:00.001-07:00

Collage 04

2009-05-28T08:30:00.000-07:00

Blogger, or perhaps the WWW Conspiracy, refuses to let the text portion of Collage 04 register unblurred. Excuse this please.

[SPANISH: SO REDLY NEAR SHE FOUND.]

Collage 02 and 03

2009-05-26T12:54:00.000-07:00

[Cutbank -- With no water, he asked water.]

One Reading of Huck Finn

2009-05-14T12:21:00.000-07:00

The boat lounged empty on the lake top, silver on green glass. She watched, worried her hair. Something monstrous in it, she said. Flies bounced corpulent against their cheeks. He waved.

Some Good Things To Be Said For The Iron Age

2009-04-26T09:30:00.000-07:00

From the next yard, the lonely, excited twittering of the puppy. She excused herself, left the long table. Oh, she said, cellphone. Oh.

Exeunt

2009-04-25T07:11:00.001-07:00

Her belly was a forest of beauty, as the deep end of the pool. Do you think, she said, her line, the sun breaking the world.

FIGHT!

2009-04-16T16:19:00.000-07:00

Randall Brown don't know the first thing.

2009-04-01T20:25:00.000-07:00

Word Periodic

2009-03-04T14:23:00.001-08:00

A road spur crackled in black trees, black slashes of goose. The three angled, toward a ditch, a wire fence, away and toward and afterward.

Snow Shovel

2009-02-25T00:27:00.000-08:00

After review, buyers of microfiction can now take the snow shovel option. Purchase 1 or more microfictions and have a snow shovel shipped to your house from Amazon.com. Indicate address and Option 1 (no shovel) or Option 2 (yes shovel) in your PayPal order.

The Damned Pythagoras

2009-02-21T09:13:00.000-08:00

In a right-angled triangle, the square of the hypotenuse equals the sum of the squares of the opposing sides.

My microfiction is now on sale

2009-02-20T07:26:00.000-08:00

Check the sidebar of this blog. This is no joke. In today's economy, no one is joking. Yes they are.

Standard Solution

2009-02-17T07:46:00.001-08:00

The stone she'd collected out of loose cliffs printed itself on the desktop. He set words of slack lakes onscreen, nose filled faintly of acid.

Pike

2009-02-14T15:55:00.000-08:00

The bridge was broken, just a causeway for squirrels, though underneath girls made promises to boys. She pointed them out, named them by their best feature--hair or eyes or breasts. A year ago, this time on open water, he'd named her too.

Interruption

2009-02-09T15:04:00.000-08:00

Afterward, her eyes started sharding the light, the view from the front door a modern cathedral. That dog is 47 types of brown, she told her husband. His forehead broke into 21 worries, though perhaps he only studied the faultless ceiling.

$1/4

2009-02-01T11:05:00.000-08:00

Here, he said, setting a quarter on the back of her hand. The coin was aglow, having spent winter under the ice out front. She touched the ribbon of its hair, the tropic motto.

A Cat's Walk

2009-01-26T07:58:00.001-08:00

Constant Math

2009-01-14T08:14:00.001-08:00

Things he decided: ice was always bitter, time will append like cooking oil, he'd only been wrong once. That was as a boy. There was a girl, her small ear, purple in the mulberry tree.

Exegesis

2009-01-13T12:58:00.000-08:00

She sat flipping among his book, fingers glasslike on the pages. Funny then when she was cut, spattering blood on the girls' varsity squad. Have a great summer! it said, arrow inked up the center's skirt.

Valentine

2009-01-10T11:54:00.000-08:00

There seemed to be impossible things, crossing the sidewalk, adjusting the birds, the smoke from a concrete pipe. He had a valve that was wrong, perched whitely among the viscera. He tried small and smaller tries.

Father Time

2009-01-07T09:37:00.001-08:00

It should start in summer, she says. In the deep hot heat of July. In winter her hands chapped and bled, though she'd never complained before. A blastocyst twirled between her hips, or at least that's what he'd taken to imagine.