It is raining tonight, and the rain in its falling is stirred into a tumult, a chaos of cross-wise winds. More living things than liquid the droplets, adhering as they do in fine fashion to park benches, lamp posts, eyelashes. Enveloping you, dancing above you. It is raining. The mist swirls. It cascades as though…
Woof
When I’m up in Maine I like to ride my bicycle late at night. Should ever you bear witness to one of these events you’ll see for yourself my midnight transformation–how this man melds with his machine, the chrome and the rubber and the swim-trunks. Be sure to watch for the faintest bit of light,…
Cuban Coffee Confessions
Once a month he’s up on the stage, poetry, where under the guise of the art he uncovers his crimes. In the dark of the cafe the crowd listens to the man on the spot, as shedding light on his kills he recounts: “She cried.” Spoken softly, the package safely back at home, the Saturday…
Moonman Inbound, Final Part
The Moonman pushes himself off the side of the house, running to the patio and then vaulting up over the steps, belly shaking with the impact. He tears past the sliding glass doors, goes through the darkened kitchen by way of memory and the touch of out-stretched arms, pushing off of furniture and walls until…
Moonman Inbound, Part 10
The Moonman goes into a crouch, just a shadow picking its way with feeling steps through the grass. He stops at the edge of the house. He peeks around the corner, his back up against the vinyl siding, some of the day’s heat still radiating into his dirt-covered skin. Down the little grass lane on…
Moonman Inbound, Part 9
So yeah, thinks the Moonman under the house, then I had some spending money. So he takes the bus downtown and goes to the dealership, and he’s just like any other goddamn regular citizen, so why can’t he take a look-see and maybe kick some tires like anybody else? But them dealership assholes are prejudiced sons…
Moonman Inbound, Part 8
He pictures himself still in his underwear, but now wearing his helmet and breathing apparatus and leading a column of troops down Main Street while standing atop that big-ass pickup truck he was looking at a couple months ago, back in the city, after he’d taken the bus downtown to walk around and check things…
Moonman Inbound, Part 7
Yes, he’d carried out the CSM’s order to the letter. He’d gone and got up early as hell the next day, full of piss and vinegar and still jumpy with the dawning realization, made concrete by the presence of so highly-ranked a personage as the Sergeant Martian himself, that in fact this was real. He…
Moonman Inbound, Part 6
The sprinklers visible as they ratchet their sprays that Sunday he fooled about with the neighbor’s daughter for the last time, them thinking that by keeping the shed door open a crack they might more easily hear the approach of a vehicle in one of the adjacent driveways out front. And still the shadows within…
Moonman Inbound, Part 5
It took the first alien to get through the first shed for the people of Earth to wake the fuck up, to put aside their petty differences and as one to bring to those cocksuckers the fight. The Moonman saw it for himself, sitting on the couch that day and watching the television, how the…
Moonman Inbound, Part 4
Nearly unbalancing himself by reaching out to pull the door closed and shut out the light, he waits as his eyes adjust, stock still all the while, listening for sounds from without. He’s sure he’s timed it right–the aliens use satellites as well as cameras in the eyes of birds to spy on us down…
