The Oxford buggers mostly are the worst…

what’s in a name (that’s not my name)

it doesn’t matter what I call you peter-paul-joseph-aleksandr-potemkim

love sends itself flowers

and mails its single-stemmed blood down the spinal telegraph all petal and thorn and never signs the card


In Alexandria, on the longest day, the chief librarian bent down beside a sundial to measure the world.

Magic Bus

To raise the fare to get home, we played rounds of all-night pontoon

Leave Me

The Elizabeth Taylor movies your grandfather watched still play in my head every now and then.

Social Change

Colin sits on his stoup. The smell of the next street is overpowering.

Confessions of a Road Sign Collector

Weeks after the garage filled up, my wife became pregnant.

Dream Interstate 104

What is the foundation of roadkill? Let me take the temperature of the asphalt