Blundering Revolutionary Union Worker

We rode on the back of a cart pulled by a blue farm truck, which seemed nearly as wrecked as the rest of the farm. Bill Wrangle’s dad, who owned the farm and the truck—in so far as claims to ownership can be made—was driving the truck, and as it was a mild autumn day, … Continue reading Blundering Revolutionary Union Worker →

Collective for Cowboy

Irene's way was considered, by the cowboys she found in bars, to be both illiterate and effete.

On His Belly Shall He Go

Danny Ossuress was a slitherer. He slunk into the party, gliding around the cracked-ajar door, and slipped along the walls, to the punch bowl. He ran his pink little tongue around his lips and dipped a sip of the sauce into a plastic cup. Then his eyes guided his head with cold blooded precision around … Continue reading On His Belly Shall He Go →

A Matter of Speaking

“I never mattered much to you, did I?” She walked into the water. What mattered was not my saying, but her. She is water, awash in the fantasy that a speaking matters, that my saying matters or that any saying of things matters. How tell the sea of my heart? So, I didn’t say. Dolphins … Continue reading A Matter of Speaking →

Punch Drunk Lament

The punch was pretty tart. It was also pretty punched. And Big Guy Jim was bent on punching a place nearby that decanter of joy, a place where he could slug that refined and rarified mash down as if it were pure mountain water. A place where he could begin working on a lonely eighty-six. … Continue reading Punch Drunk Lament →

Bad Time to Start Vacation

The vacation did not start well. For one thing Dee was sort of getting over a cold, and Andi was not quite that far along in her battle with the pernicious disease. They were both hacking and spitting and sniffling and nose blowing and wasting whole forests of tissue. They had traveled to Bozeman and … Continue reading Bad Time to Start Vacation →

Darrel

We probably should not have switched up the routine. We probably should have gone down to the Alley and bowled a few games and drunk a few beers and ordered a pizza and eaten it off the shelf that ran along the wall at the back. But, no. Erline wanted to stay home and watch … Continue reading Darrel →

A Girl to Heal a Fissured Heart

“You put a hole in my heart like the grand canyon. . .. ,” Audie wrote. He was sick and tired of women. And Deli was the latest of the worst. All about her. Like saving it for a rainy day was life. Hell, life was gather roses while they bloom. Not this faux virgin … Continue reading A Girl to Heal a Fissured Heart →

The Axeman at the Cowboy Poetry Open Mic

Jeffery carried a guitar slung on his back. He did not know how to play it, not really. Although, he could strum enough to accompany himself singing “Red River Valley.” It might be noted that saying Jeffery sang “Red River Valley” is somewhat of an exaggeration. He played the four or five chords he knew … Continue reading The Axeman at the Cowboy Poetry Open Mic →

A Prince

Old Daryl was a morbid sort. By the time he was sixty-five, he had his will all sorted, his bills finally all paid off, his porch rocker put where he could watch the sunset until he took part in it. When his buddies, the guys he’d grown up with, gone off to fight Hirohito with, … Continue reading A Prince →