uptown liquor

i find a bottle of unopened vodka in my 18 y.o.’s closet and enquire. i don’t know where that vodka came from, she says. is it yours? uh, no. oh. I just found it in my closet. it came from somewhere, i say and wait. nothing. when I find the $15.67 charge for uptown liquor* … Read more


dear imaginary readers of this blog, i’m pleased that my book of shorts HOW TO PICK UP A MAID IN STATUE SQUARE has placed on the long short list for the ReLit Awards! for more info on the award and all the nominees, check here. and read a short story, any short story, will you? … Read more

my father’s work gloves

my father’s work gloves rest on the handles of the wheel barrel; they hold the shape of my father’s hands, worn from splitting wood and stacking it in the shed, raking and burning leaves. my father’s work gloves are marked with blood, earned when he lost his footing on the wood pile; the chainsaw bucked. my … Read more

top 5 short story collections of 2017

this year i’m giving short stories their own list because they fucking deserve it.** and besides, there’s too much of an emphasis on novels. but keep in mind that i don’t always read collections in their publication year. i mix it up. some of the collections i read this year are older (like 20 years … Read more

top 10 books of 2017

i read a lotta books in 2017 but i lost track, didn’t properly record them. the year was too much, too much. i’m working from memory here; please forgive me, please forgive my omissions. i am too little and too much. 2017 was an absolute shit show from a reading perspective because, as a news … Read more


ciphers obscured by clouds shooting, failing at shining, losers wearing ripped euro-trash jeans and scuffed biker boots streaking across a velvet curtain smoking hand-rolled cigarettes in the lounge at the airport in Rome impervious to the fake gods that named them typical teenagers planets are the real deal, solid  

i take a room

i take a room or it takes me. i bring one suitcase, that is all. i own little. trinkets from the war. these i leave at the bottom of the suitcase, in an old tin box. with mary’s papers. mary’s papers. an old tin box. i am an old tin box. or do i wish i … Read more

at the monastery

jet lagged. in the middle of the night, on Italian TV, a subterranean dream. i click through the channels to find: Whitney Houston music videos. there’s always Whitney Houston videos on Italian TV, i don’t know why; chaste adverts for pleasure devices; a sexy demonstration of a non-stick frying pan; an Italian commentary about a … Read more

a response to John Ashbery’s Abstentions

not the shy tourist, hopping up the salty steps of Rome. the shy man, sitting on the steps by the Piazza di Spagna, waiting for your Lothario. transparent feelings stream, stream, stream past: curiosity, desire, a wish to know it all. but all of it as it is not. not tall enough, not strong enough, … Read more

hell, ya

it’s time for a writing loop. see you on the other side.