Massachusettes Review, Volume 60, Issue 1
In the backroom of the meat and seafood department, a butcher was stabbing a hunk of meat. His face twitched with each pounding thrust.
Rosemary, Sage, and Fear
Dried rosemary looks like chopped pine needles. I sprinkle them on course coffee grounds for my morning cup. I add rubbed sage while water boils in the microwave for me to pour over the culminating mixture of what I hope will prevent a future with a skull-full of amyloid plaque.
Bask in the Color of the Table
Eastern Iowa Review, Issue 6
Maud Martha and I share a kitchenette, and no, it wasn’t the one we wanted.
The familiar crunch of dried leaves is one of the great pleasures of autumn, but when Susanna Bauer uses leaves to create highly detailed crocheted sculptures, she barely makes a sound with her tiny needles and fine thread. What compels someone to take a leaf and put a needle through it?
If there’s one thing that could bring new attention to environmental issues in a way that Al Gore can’t, it’s Captain Planet. The inconvenient truth is that what the planet needs right now isn’t scientific consensus; it’s fandom.
The Ghost in My Shower
Thin Air Literary Magazine, Issue 20
I never believed in ghosts until I started showering with one.
Being the Skinny Guy
The Goodmen Project
“Your hips are pointy,” my friends say. They examine the curve of bone that rises above my swim trunks and declare this fact as if it had never occurred to me.