Meatbombe’
Sep 26th
Order the Meatbombe’ at Mega Mel’s: a giant chargrilled platter of cow hooves, fried in salt water then garnished with mono sodium glutamate and smothered in a delightful four cheese blend. Soak in the atmosphere: moose head, bear head, old metal petroleum signs, cowboy hat waitstaff, lassos, cigar smoke wafting from the bar, Top 40 [...]
Domino Alley
Sep 19th
Read the beginning…
He hoisted an industrial orange chainsaw from the back of the truck. Renting these kinds of tools was surprisingly easy.
“Should we have a license for something like this?” Israel’s face was crumpled in amused disbelief.
Jake, his burly colleague slipped dark sunglasses over his squinting eyes.
“You know, I never really thought about [...]
Quality
Sep 17th
He runs free; crunching leaves underfoot
flailing assortment of sticks
glee overcomes a face
carefree, lawless, conscious
curly sweaty mop
atop flushed dimple cheeks
Neither of us tiring
this moment lasts forever
I tag alongside exuberance
And just being near
I am youth
the wind; the colors; the scent
Leaves burning far away
reach my nose
knowing I never really left
and never will
TWINKIE™’S REVENGE – The Pickle From Hell
Sep 15th
A freckle-faced kid, incongruous in the city scene, dressed in ratty overalls and a faded, torn plaid shirt, holds a hand-made tree branch slingshot in his hand. He looks up, realizing he’s extended a silver-platter invitation to the wrath of the demonic dill.
Receptacle
Sep 14th
by Andrew Koop
“Good Afternoon, you’ve reached The Bridge, your innovative decor solution, how can I be of assistance today?”
“Yes… I’m calling to speak with Mr. Marcus.”
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“I’m calling on behalf of…”
“You know…I just realized Mr. Marcus is in a meeting. May I put you through to his voicemail?”
“Uhmm…”
“Great. Just one sec…”
Israel Sandine [...]
Primal
Sep 10th
Sweat stank breath leaps from every cubic slimy inch. A square box of damp hell contains twenty wrestlers: groaning, grunting, growling. A primal quest for survival wages tonight and every night. The wet slap of limbs rings down the hall to where cheerleaders bounce and squeal.
Never have you felt so alive; never have you wished [...]
The Last Rose Died
Sep 4th
by Shecky Merman
It’s gone… withered away. It’s wrapped in its cocoon of new fashions at Back-To-School prices and freshly-minted textbooks. We used to bury it in old grocery bags, taping it to the books, so we could perform artistic resuscitation with Sharpies™ to disguise our 45-lb. Adventures in American History: The Insomniac’s Edition.
It’s [...]
Trail
Sep 2nd
Cold breath of the lake strikes me stride-for-stride heading up South Shore Drive. I’m picking up the pace now, running with traffic not against. A sky so blue the back of my sockets float takes me out to the placid ommm center beyond the geese and glass. A few miles later the pain in my [...]
