On his walk he sees pink insulation like guts hanging from the cavernous chest cavity of the black dumpster. He sees dozens of flies crowding on a flattened squirrel who has something green leaking from one intact eye. The flies scatter at his approach, the buzzing a soft warning...
BULL, December 2025
BEFORE YOU WERE BORN I WAS A DIFFERENT MAN. I DIDN’T WEAR MY SEAT BELT. I LIVED IN A CITY WHERE THE MONEY FESTERS LIKE MOLD. I HUNG AROUND THAT CITY’S NECK. I ATE THE SCRAPS IT FED ME...
Blood+Honey, October 2025
On the way home from the restaurant Joselyn stops at the Asian market. She walks in between rows of rotating Peking ducks and she thinks about killing herself. She wonders how her naked body would look on one of those skewers, first pink, then orange, then black...
Blood+Honey, September 2025
“There isn’t much to it at all, see? No need to be scared.” Said Greg, the matted, spit-soaked end of a lollipop stick in his mouth. He hoped that when men saw him from a distance, they would think it was a cigarette...
TrashLight Press, December 2025 (Originally written in 2021)
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