Burnt kernels drenched in boiling butter.
hotdogs sizzling on moist mustard dripped buns.
A big sun beats down on your fried ball-capped face.
The crack of the bat on ball rips through the sky.
You look at your father.
You know his tumor is growing.
Your last game together.
Where’s an alien abduction
when you really need one?
*this micro story was first published in Serious Flash Fiction volume 7
This poem was originally published in the Poet’s Choice book, A Fleeting Visitor, and is about the morning view from my living room window.
The surface of the river
looks like wrinkles on a mirror
wiggling toward their ocean home,
reflections distorted by
a never ending procession of
constantly competing currents.
Branches drape over the
edge of the shore and droop
down toward the furrowed course
as English Ivy crawls up the
trunk, gradually choking
the tree into eternal sleep.
Blackberry brambles spread
slowly and unseen, colonizing
the bank and climbing
over fallen logs that have
become their own
The blue heron extends
its massive wingspan,
stretching out the frigid
as the eagle soars overhead
in search of sustenance.
Light breaks on the
eastern horizon as
the sun peaks its shining
head over the crest
of the mighty Cascade
originally published in the Poet’s Choice book, A Fleeting Visitor
There’s a joy that you could bring
into the world with just a smile,
or with a small act of kindness
that you wouldn’t know could
mean so much to someone
when they’re down, and
when they feel like
they can’t answer
all the questions
that we all have
in our heads.
What? My photo “Behind Blue Eyes” is one of only thirteen in the world to be chosen for the public voting round of this month’s London Photo Festival contest. I was pretty well floored when I found out earlier this week.
If I win my photo will be highlighted and sold on the London Photo Festival’s website gallery, and they’ll do a bunch of publicity with me around winning the competition.
Please go vote for me. It’s quick and easy. You just have to make a free Submittable account and then click on the vote button. Signing up for the account literally takes 10 seconds. It is only name, email, and password. You don’t have to give them any other information.
Help win this thing!
Click Here to view and vote for my photo.
originally published on June 2, 2021 by Sledgehammer
Eternal floating. The gloating rights will be monumental. Who else will be able to say they hold the world record for spending the most time in space? No one, that’s who.
Current record: 665 days.
One orbital circumnavigation every 90 minutes.
16 per day.
10,641 rotations to victory.
It’s going to be an unparalleled achievement with an honored place in the annals of history. Children will read about it in their fourth grade social studies books for decades to come. It’s really quite exciting.
The pod slips into an elliptical orbit with…
originally published on May 14, 2021 by Alien Buddha Press
Getting down is always easier than getting back up again. Three hundred vertical feet of steep chaparral canyon trail melted into the cliff face by time and tides ebbing and flowing unceasingly against the backdrop of a posh coastal climate. Rope dangled lazily for the last couple dozen feet, secured by a massive boulder waiting for its moment to crash into the stoic beach.
“Wait up Scooby.”
“I’ll wait for you at the rope.”
“What? I can barely hear you?”
“Just keep going.”
He was only 20 yards away, but…
originally published by BOMBFIRE
“… that emotion breeds inefficiency.” The floor supervisor pauses and raises his gloved hand in the air demanding silence, then holds his wand back up to the side of his throat to amplify his voice above the groan of the machinery churning in the background. “Don’t forget that here at NazCo we’re a family, and families look out for each other. Isn’t that right?” Despite his choice of phrasing and inflection, it’s quite clearly a statement rather than a question. “We want to make sure this family is healthy and efficient. So if you see any…
originally published in Brave Voices Magazine
I’ve always been queer
but it never felt like it
was a door to my
identity that needed to
be left wide open.
I don’t know if that
is really the truth,
or if it’s just what
I tell myself in hindsight
all these years later.
When I was a teenager
I had thick long hair.
I painted my nails
and I wore long,
He’s just a hippy
after all, no need to
worry. It’s just a phase
that he’ll grow out of
when he’s older.
When I was about fifteen
originally published on May 18, 2018 at www.jwjpdx.org
At a recent hearing on May 17th of the Portland Area Workers’ Rights Board, hosted by Portland Jobs with Justice and Amalgamated Transit Union Local 757, over 100 community members heard testimony about TriMet’s LIFT paratransit service. The testimony highlighted a disturbing trend of labor and human rights violations that began when TriMet outsourced the service to First Transit, which is a subdivision of the multinational corporation First Group.
Testimony was heard from drivers and riders who have first hand experience with this service since it has been outsourced to First Transit…
originally published on September 20, 2018 at www.jwjpdx.org
Following on the heels of a wave of successful and massive statewide teacher strikes in West Virginia, Oklahoma, and Arizona, teacher’s across southwest Washington went on strike after districts tried to keep money in the bank that had been handed down by the state legislature specifically to pay for raises and more teachers.
Despite that fact that teachers pay for supplies out of their own pockets, have to work second and third jobs to pay their bills, and are generally overworked, the bad bosses at the district offices thought padding their rainy…
(they/he/she) is a multigender musician, organizer, photographer, and author who lives in rural Oregon with their partner, cats, puppy, goats, beehives, & bats.