Golgotha

"To think of these stars that you see overhead at night, these vast worlds which we can never reach. I would annex the planets if I could; I often think of that. It makes me sad to see them so clear and yet so far."--Cecil Rhodes

We gathered on the dock and watched it; a flaming ship,
trailing smoke and sloughing strips of steel skin.
Fins of gashed and guttered ripped hull like lips
slipped from skeletal metal bounds as infernal seraphim
with wings of zealotry. We were sure that the war
would never reach our streets and cluttered homes,
yet streaks of light and our defeat showed our error.
Foreign men and women from distant stars come
to tell electric tales of how our far and distant
orbit holds promise for cracks of ore and molten
veins of golden currency. They promised to shatter
our castes and social bonds. Shackles of we were given, platinum,
until our grandchildren grew thin and old to watch the tugs
pull our blood from the earth and churn it all together like mud.

Still haven't seen that movie.

There was a movie poster in my best friend’s basement,

of a white mask with melting empty eyes,

the open, gaping mouth in a permanent

wail. In the dark, the face floated and

the poster around it might as well

have vanished. That image fed

the first nightmare that

I can remember.

Figures

in caliginous

robes drifting up

towards me, from

void, at the bottom

of the basement stairs.

Their flight did not elicit squeak

or screech from the wooden steps.

Their outstretched sleeves contained neither

hands or fingers. And although their pursuit was

sluggish, their empty, distended mouths, confessed

that I horrified them. My existence was just an occult

depravity. I thirsted to scream. But because they could not,

I had to wait,

for when I

woke

up.

Where I Used To Live

empty cans of chef boyardee
contents divorced from the can
into spotted blue plastic bowls
chocolate milk in a tall glass
sweet on the tongue and later sour in the stomach

streets between stacks of cluttered
newspapers
most older than the eldest brother
there’s enough room on the kitchen table, between the towers,
for the bowl, the glass, the steel spoon, and the empty can

stained carpets
hairballs lonely and unattended
scattered wind-up toys from happy meals
a cracked window behind the television and a speaker system,
whose wires have never been connected

a pink room upstairs with flares of flowers on the bed’s quilt
a blue room too, a blue sweatshirt forgotten on the floor
the other three rooms stuffed
with boxes of magazines and stained gold necklaces and expired
coupons for food lion and walmart

christmas tree in the study though
it’s fall and the tree’s been there since winter’s freeze
winking red light on the wireless router
like a single christmas light or from a life support system
for the computer long dead on the desk

a ripped alimony or child support check
under the keyboard
from a tall lawyer I used to see
and
you want to see again

Phrenia, Bilateralis, Chapter One

The Exitus Stone glowed. It had no specific hue or tint, it simply glowed, and when one gazed upon it they were sure that it was a light source, even though at night, it would provide no illumination to objects around it. In the days Sibyl had already spent within Phrenia, she’d never gotten used to the Exitus Stone’s unique properties.

why am I going back to this?

I guess it is because this is such a nice platform for, like, putting a story up in a place where you guys can read it quickly.

I guess I'm realizing that tumblr isn't the be all end all, and that when it really comes down to it, I prefer hearing from people I know about the stories and things I write, rather than no one at all.

And this website just feels so much more casual. This isn't a professional place by any means, so if I want to, I can just throw up a rough draft of a thing and not give a shit because I know it's just friends that end up here anyway!

Fantasy

Jeanne was the one who’d invited me down to the woods that night. Tall, slender Jeanne, with sparkling bottle green eyes and silky tanned skin, and a smile that never really went away, even when she was mad or upset. Who was I to say that I didn’t want to go.

The Beginning of the End

The last pieces of brick and shale jumped down the slope in smaller and smaller arcs to land on the concrete around Keiki’s feet. He was still on his back, his heart beating at the inside of his ribcage as though it wanted to be free. He could feel a pain in his side and he pressed his hand against it, softly through his jacket and shirt, and winced. But, he thought, it might just be a bruise.