My Published Work

Poetry

boy in green shorts holding green hose

My August Childhood

The water hose hissed and, for a moment,The faint scent of sunbaked rubberFilled the humid air. Water tickled small, laughing bodiesRunning barefoot through lush grassPeppered with dried needle leaves. They take refuge behind a rundown carWith cracked windows that resembledA spiderweb glistening in the sun. Prompt: Poetics: Sometimes August isn’t recognized by Sanaa Rizvi (from …

potted plant and chair on balcony

A Peaceful Summer Afternoon

A shaded balcony Chlorine wafting from the pool like a Siren’s song Children’s laughter Scrape of colorful chalk, tattooing concrete Flowers in bloom Red petals dancing in summer’s light Cyclist meandering by Wheels cracking and spokes creaking Wind in grass Dried morning trimmings blanketing the walkway Peaceful observer Written for d’Verse ~ Poet’s Pub poetry …

hands portrait child

The Well Intended

I thought of the future, and spoke of the past. ~Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Three Stories My son, forgive me I tried to show my angels But taught my demons Written for dVerse ~ Poet’s Pub‘s 11th year celebration prompt: Poetics ~ Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

person holding brown wooden chest

A Treasure of Nightmares

There is nothing more torturous than an agitated mind. It’s like a treasure chest of unspoken riches Selfishly guarded, every jewel meticulously analyzed Accumulating over a short time– Epiphanies, suspicions, fears, schemes– Until it overflows And the tortured realizes too late That it was easier to open than shut. Written in response to Patrick Jenning’s …

Our Escape

I want to be alone… with someone who wants to be alone. Dimitri Zaik We rented a motel room in a city far away from our respective lives. The moment we entered, we killed our phones then sequestered them in the old drawer – charging be damned – officially going off grid. Two chocolates and …

Flash Fiction

The Death Sentence

The year is 3020 and time travel is an execution method. A few years back, it was a hopeful science experiment. “Humanity’s next great breakthrough,” said World Union’s propagandists. It earned them a few willing volunteers. A couple hundred if I remember right, but after humanity’s next great breakthrough turned its volunteers into charred corpses, …

Leftovers

She dragged her knife against rigged metal, grating its edge to a sharp point. Well, she thought, turning to her victim subdued in the kitchen chair. His new girlfriend is welcomed to my leftovers.

A Lucid Dream

She doesn’t need to leave on that commute again…the one from two months ago when her car flipped and she–the real she–was taken from me.

If I stay silent, she’ll always be asleep beside me.

I Just Want a Happy Fucking Ending

It’s better than this unexplainable dread that fills me as I leaf through the streaky magazine paper. Every page detailing how the world is falling apart. Hell, how it might even die before my own little shits come of age. I let the pages slip between my thumbs, fast forwarding through all the bullshit.

We Couldn’t Start Anew

We agreed to sign the papers. No more trying to heal us. Fixed on our poker faces and met at his house. By nightfall, we were wrapped in each other’s arms.