Fictions!

Various short fictions (and a few poems) as they have appeared all over these here Internets

“My phone feels like a bad joke in my hand/sending you penis pictures at all/hours of the day…” (From Metazen)

“These are things that will last forever. We must learn to love them. Somehow, someway…” (Excerpts from This Is Between Us on The Atticus Review)

“The escalator didn’t work. I fell down the stairs in protest…” (from The Atticus Review)

“I was dishonest on the Internet. I was lying in the email. I was faking it on the Skype. I was just playing on the Facebook message, toying with you via text message…” (from Housefire)

“You are looking out the window and holding the phone to your ear for several minutes, even though no one is on it to talk to anymore…” (from Hart House Review)

“I’m sorry that my mouth is like quicksand…” (from Word Riot, with audio!)

“One of them believes in the devil. One of them has two cell phones. One of them is from Hawaii…” (from Everyday Genius)

“You remembered how I bought you flowers, how I said I was sorry, how I undressed you like a starving man…” and “We were good at pretending to be one strong couple, not a combination of two weak ones…” (from Spork)

“”That’s the most racist Native American puzzle I’ve ever seen,” he said. The box showed a cluttered cartoony mess of tents and fat Indians dancing to cowhide drums…” (from No News Today)

“What about us? There’s gotta be something wrong with us…” (from Writers’ Dojo)

“You took off your shirt and showed the old boyfriend your burn. The blisters had already started. “Don’t laugh,” you said…” (from Writers’ Dojo)

“The homeless man did a double take when I walked by…” (from The Fanzine)

“I told you that I still loved all my past girlfriends. “How many is that?” you asked…” (from Smalldoggies)

“Emily Kendal Frey learned to drive in a cul-de-sac. Her uncle Donnie, a former NASCAR driver, taught her when she was fifteen. He knew the importance of turning left. And turning left. And turning left…” (from Lamination Colony)

“The parachute landed like a whisper on top of him…” (from Wigleaf)

“Music isn’t “real” says Afghanistan…” (collages on Noo Journal)

“One of the things about drinking is that it seems to make Allen and Josh and Sarah feel all important. But it makes you feel worthless…” (from Identity Theory)

“One dude deflects a dry biscuit off his rubbery chicken neck and convulses on the ground until his heart stops. Then I go to jail…” (from Fifty-Two Stories)

“”Some people like to fuck cripples,” she snorted…” (from Failbetter)

“He was a pervert torturing himself…” (from Smokelong Quarterly)

“They were close growing up, playing football with the neighborhood kids, making up comedy routines, throwing snowballs at cars in the winter…” (from Night Train)

“”She’s getting published in the New Yorker, asshole,” yelled Courtney…” (from Oprah Read This)

“He said something that she didn’t quite catch but it sounded like, “I live with my mom.”…” (from Word Riot)

“He heard some unpacking of things and the ketchupy squirt of some lotion.  “Let it out,” she said to him…” (from Juked)

“The girls were glad to be excused. They bolted out the front door and threw themselves into a pile of snow. I heard one of them say, “Pretend I’m Jesus.”…” (from Pequin)

“I will set the box on fire in the parking garage. I will let animals eat and destroy it. I will stop stealing candy bars. I will get some sleep…” (from McSweeney’s)

“Her dress looked like it was made of paper towels…” (from 5_Trope)

“You’re obsessed about cancer. About what causes it, how long you can live with it or suffer through it. About knowing people who have it…” (From Elimae)

“The wrinkles on her elbows are like the circles in a tree stump, telling her age to anyone who knows the formula…” (from Brevity)

“They say the house around the corner from ours is a crack house or a speed house. But don’t they always?” (from Pindeldyboz)

“The other day I had to get drunk to save my marriage. My wife forced me. We went to the store and we were ready to fight. She told me to pick a beer…” (from Del Sol Review)

“All those arms, legs, helmets, shoulder pads. All of it squirming all over her and screaming in her ear holes…” (from Eyeshot)

“When she first started working here, Kimberly had an intimate moment with the janitor, reportedly on a desk somewhere, and so we all assumed she knew what his every thought and emotion was…” (from Slouch Magazine)

“She is looking right at me and I notice that she has a very loose neck. It wiggles as we gain altitude…” (from Pindeldyboz)

“When I open the oven door, I notice the smell of throw up. I wonder if someone threw up in the oven. I imagine what it would be like to throw up in the oven…” (from Mud Luscious)

“I am in bed, crawling over my wife, trying to locate her left nipple in the dark. Her right foot is gently massaging my groin. I become large. She says in a concerned voice: “Fuzzy.”…” (from Smokebox)

“She told me she wanted to bite my dick off and chew it like a wad of gum.” (from Tothworld podcast)

“My parents put me in a summer camp when I was fourteen because they found some of my poetry and thought I was going to kill a bunch of people.” (from Featherproof Mini-Books)

Other fictions have appeared in print in these real paper magazine journal things

Kitty Snacks (forthcoming)

Alibi (forthcoming)

Pank

Nano Fiction

Weekday

Fairy Tale Review Grey Issue

Pageboy

Opium

Fugue

Prism Index

The Ne’er-Do-Well

Hobart

Plazm

LIT

J&L Illustrated

Monkeybicycle

Yeti

Keyhole

Clackamas Literary Review

Eye Rhyme

Sleepingfish

Portland Review

Gargoyle

Quick Fiction

And then there are these anthologies!

David Lynch tribute anthology (forthcoming, Lazy Fascist Press)

Get Out of Our Crotch anthology (forthcoming, Bona Fide Books)

Best Sex Writing 2012

C. Mud Luscious Press Stamp Stories

Nouns of Assemblage

Requiem For a Paper Bag

Noise: Fiction Inspired by Sonic Youth

Flash

Not Quite What I Was Planning

Homewrecker: An Adultery Anthology

Northwest Edge III

Mountain Man Dance Moves: McSweeney’s Book of Lists

Number One Fan

See You Next Tuesday

The Unmade Bed

Good To Go