Final Exchange

This was the end of things. Just as the balmy sea shoots forward over the dry sand, giving it moisture and warmth, making the grains form together into one mass, the sea must one day be absorbed back into the ocean, leaving the grains as cold and separate as they were before. Marshall stared at…

Numb Little Orgasms

Why masturbate alone When you can masturbate into someone else? Why make your tummy viscous with nut When there’s a container waiting? Fill your fingers with constellations of cutting scars And stimulate your glands (the old in-and-out) With her pelvis-bone and out—into the mirror To marionette yourself from a blank-lit angle —and edit, always edit…

Not Like Yesterday

Marvin, 32, pushes open a screen door and steps onto his porch. His is skinny and a bit unhealthy looking, wearing a bathrobe and sandals. He takes a sip from his mug of coffee and peers off into the day. Marvin: Time to fuck this day in the ass. Time to take this fuckin day,…

Wed Me: The Arrival

Wed Me: The Come Up The lodge was massive: constructed fully of logs, it squatted on the wide acme of a hill, the wings and verandas and porticos branching downwards towards the driveway, which did a full loop around the structure. Three chimneys puffed grey smoke that clung to the surrounding redwoods before drifting off…

Wed Me: The Come-Up

Phil shouldn’t have let Gaffney choose the music. He had relinquished control over the stereo along with the wheel about 30 miles back, and Gaffney had immediately started blasting a ludicrous rap album that sounded like someone stomping on a Casio. The lyrics were worse; the current song seemed to just be a litany of…

DogThief

Lasko stood in the dark hallway after Tom had disappeared into his room. The cab’s meter was still running downstairs, ticking away at Lasko’s funds. But now it was time to stand in the dark. Lasko had learned that sometimes standing in the dark was necessary. His face could do what it wanted. There was…

Nicaragua (A Pre-Regulated Country)

A scurry of goats dip their heads behind the herder as their tin bells clang, hoofs clacking past the lichen-ribboned ruins of colonial hospitals and royal thumbs of ancient cathedrals now disused. Shacks have bloomed in the rubble because they are more necessary. Nicas barter over lumps of goods passed down from the 1st World,…