Literature
Gator Girl
Mr. Hansom called the principal, who called a wildlife expert named Jim James. Jim James arrived dressed in camel-colored khaki, in a truck like a cartoon of an African safari. more »
Our Family
My mother’s made of plastic. All her parts. In her, one stores solids, fluids, leftovers, even garbage. more »
A Nature Lover's Phobia
I'm not prone to premonitions, but my gut has long told me Arizona would bring the showdown. I haven't avoided the desert southwest because of it. more »
An Evening in Taos
7 Pieces
Fructify
A truly Fringey creation -- poetry meets visuals through the use of Flash. more »
The World Comes Together: Dual Identity in the Poetry of Sam Hamod
Sam Hamod is among the few contemporary poets of Arab American descent. more »
Notes from a Man Trapped in a Giant Bottle
Hello. If you are reading this, please come help me. I am stuck inside of a giant bottle in the middle of a grassy field. more »
Flash Flood
That night around the fire, after she’d coughed up more water than he thought could fit in a person’s lungs, Manuelo sat and listened to her talk about a white tunnel of light and her life flashing before her eyes—clichés, yes, she said, but true. more »
3 Poems
3 Poems
Somewhere Between Everywhere and Nowhere
Depending on how you look at it, I was born in the middle of nowhere—or the center of everywhere. more »
Some Things I Just Can't Talk About
Tim, as he says to call him, yells “SHUT UP, YOU!” at the homeless man who is walking with the shopping cart that overflows with rotting food, stuffed cloth bags and cardboard signs. more »
4 Poems
The Gerbil Will Not Leave Its Cage and Pockets Filled with Stones
To a listener of these sonic short fictions, I’d say, think of them as story-songs, or sound-word collages. more »
Fever
The room is small in its warmth. I feel swollen in the dim glow of a low fire and a sputtering candle. I am alone, save for my son. more »
Out by Munson Creek
"Give me my blowgun," Harry said. Kyle handed him the blowgun from the floor on his side. It was dark and cool and we were on a county road sixty miles east of Dallas. The sky was autumn clear; a quarter moon hung low on the horizon. more »
An Ocean View
You’d never know that our driver was in Dubai when the tsunami struck Sri Lanka. He plays tour-guide as we dodge tuk-tuks, scooters, and delivery vans. more »
Fear and Reality
We call this place Hepatitis Heights. It is a drug den on top of 23rd Street, Potrero Hill, San Francisco. The year is 1999. more »