I have become a turned chair, a chair that sits pretty in the corner, a piece of furniture, ignored. I am somebody’s ghost, haunting preferred to a holding, I am no longer tactile, invisible. I am a headless flower, dried out in a scum filled vase; I have become next week’s mulch, unbelievable. What has become of me? more »

Do you know what it is to “flee”? Perhaps not, since all of your ilk are transfixed by screens and it’s doubtless difficult to animate a first-class flee, though I suppose some brainy little git is even now adjusting his quadrants and trying. You have no range yet, nor do you have the historical reach essential to the finer aspects of theatrical flight. Flouncing you do well enough. I’ve admired your overblown, hand-to-forehead imitation of Jo March’s triumph of overacting. The... more »

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Panel 1: Captain Lightning holds Professor Spiralmind by the front of his lab coat, dangling the villain’s body over the ledge of his observatory hideout, as lightning flashes in the background. Rain has matted Captain Lightning’s black hair against his forehead, but it doesn’t obscure his eyes, which are round and focused. more »

This month’s (de)Classified is a selection of audio pieces by Michael K. Meyers. If you enjoy these, check out Meyers’ previously published work with... more »

THRD SEASON JOY OF PAINTING CLIFFHANGER FINALE: This is old VHSx5+ C- but high vocal resonance (about 9-10, Quidd). Im not into zen meditation but my bf. says its hot shit, a BR classic. like delayed male orgasm he says! ; o Will trade or sell. CONTACT. PS thanks everyone this site saved my life. looking forward to many more trades!!! <3 more »

I. Two alligators pass each other and flash a secret greeting, like bikers. They stop for gas in Big Cypress Swamp. The woman who owns the station dishes about the best location to spot a panther. (Photo of old timey gas station) Supreme Unleaded is… more »

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was the light that would shine in the darkness, even to the ends of the Restaurant, but the darkness did not comprehend the light, nor the Restaurant the Word nor I the Restaurant,… more »

I don’t hate you, but if you were me, you would hate you. more »

Everyone knows the story, but no one knows how it actually happened. The story is that George chopped down the cherry tree, and said, “Father, I cannot tell a lie, it was I who chopped down the cherry tree.” Here is how it actually happened. more »

Went into the office today hoping that I would receive some news about my salary — hoping that it would have been banked by now. I hear a fellow peer decided to commit suicide on a Sunday. I instantly forget about the salary. Awkward how death makes one forget. I can’t seem to get the tragedy out of my head. Nonetheless, I don’t want to intellectualize the situation. Should we all be nihilists/Nietzscheans? To decide that morals have no value; wouldn’t that make me an animal? more »

ACT I [The voices contained herein are self-contained and non-differentiated but are unique like crystals or fractals, which are neither unique nor practical. As you will find out, or have already discovered, Meta and I were in love and somewhat obsessed with magic and the manifold dimensions of z. This final act, which is really the first act, takes place in 2-space and 3-space, which are like parallel worlds that are unaware of the other but are layered on top of each other like minks or... more »

Thor never got used to those Norwegian winters. Months of half-light and soft bark. But his fire smoldered on, year after year, until one fresh June day brought a breakthrough in Thor’s plans to float away from the steely fjords… more »

Thea Zimmer’s decades of employment in an increasingly “feminized” corporate America provides the fodder for Cake It! In the vignettes that make up Cake It!—the jottings that bring together the real life, the overheard, the imagined—Zimmer presents an unapologetic work… more »

In a Car, Quickly, on Cape Cod [Audio clip: view full post to listen] A note from the author: [In a Car, Quickly, on Cape Cod] is a selection extracted from a much larger work, a 33,000-word prosodic novella based on an 1,800-mile… more »

Unlikely Factory Carol: I never thought that parts of it are still made by hand! Ann: No wonder they are never uniform. The Inspector: This, ladies, is a bellows. They come in three standard sizes. Of course, custom orders are possible. Carol: Underneath that… more »

“What is broken, God Blesses” –Jimmy Santiago Baca Broken with the hollow and can never be sung; tomato vines, sticky gnats, yellow flower of bodies into nectar. Just to taste memory. Under my own steam away now to the place before… more »

A truly Fringey creation -- poetry meets visuals through the use of Flash. more »

To a listener of these sonic short fictions, I’d say, think of them as story-songs, or sound-word collages. more »

Listen, I'm not supposed to talk about this. It's supposed to be closeted, absolutely. Unless, of course, you have at least one black parent. Except, of course, you know at least one black person (intimately). more »