Jul 23, 2017 | Featured, Fiction |
Mary Ann tells me you’re going to help with the fence. Yes, sir. There’s not that much of it – shouldn’t take too long. They both looked at the fence, about sixty feet of white pickets that ran along the sidewalk. Mary Ann came out on the porch...
Sep 15, 2015 | Fiction, Poetry |
no one leaves home unlesshome is the mouth of a sharkyou only run for the borderwhen you see the whole city running as well your neighbors running faster than youbreath bloody in their throatsthe boy you went to school withwho kissed you dizzy behind the old tin...
