My Stories
When We Were Small
Once a neighbor teen strung me up, noosed rope from a tire swing around my shoulder and tightened, me a small fry girl a human tire swing.
To Pieces
When the man who is large takes your hand you must go, your mother at your back like a shovel. Scuffing your shoes, you gain balance and enter The Mouth, as you consider it…
Pigsglue
Maddy Procter stood in the boys’ bathroom. Nobody pulled their pants down.
Oranges
He had a chance to open the cellar when his grandmam wasn’t watching.
Hey Grandmam
He had a chance to open the cellar when his grandmam wasn’t watching.
HEX, OCTOBER 1956
The industrial grandeur and glare of Fernald erased even the stars so that approaching the plant for third shift was like driving from a tunnel into the government’s continuous daytime.
Doxology
You can run on Catechism like it’s gasoline. Wipe your grime on the gauze that covers your intimate places. So then, a life tinted yellow, malaised, maized, amazed.
Contagious Meditation
Disturbing, That everything is undisturbed, pared to singlehood and the craves we didn’t know we knew. Such as: absent others’ touch, what are we?
Commonplace
A memoir, “Commonplace” appears in the most recent issue of Red Coyote, Volume 34, 2019-20, published by the University of South Dakota and The Vermillion Project.