Prose & Poetry

You think my parts are superfluous: you want only what you want—nothing more. First the pruning […]

Born at the base of the Adobes where salt-encrusted mesas rise at discouragingly steep pitches. Stunted

I had always warned you of this rule as a child: to never go to the

“What do you think of these ones?” I pulled three short-sleeve button-ups from the shopping cart

In third grade, I had a woman named Miss Fulton. She had been Miss Fulton the

The Arms Dealer Guns do not kill people. People kill people. I only sell guns. I

Only a fool would seek his likeness in history. Seek not this clown in Machiavelli’s folios—this

I wake up on our wedding day to a scream (from the ones I had buried

Lost In The Quantum Depths Of Night I am in the now centered no longer entangled