Stella

No matter how things were left between us, the phantom of Stella Alfieri will always linger in a quiet, protected place in my heart. She is my Muse, and for those rare moments when she is not somehow the source of every story, every tale, every lie I write, her mark is left upon the … Continue reading Stella →

Sweet January

I cannot remember a time when January did not bring me dread,I am, after all, a child of the new year, of deep winter, of power outages,of "don't be greedy for your birthday, it was only just Christmas,"and other such memories that secretly made me wish I was a Spring Child(Queue the laughter from my … Continue reading Sweet January →

In a Cluttered Atelier

I'm not fond of it - too quiet, too observant. You always telling me to shut up and observe, Maestro. Shut up. You at least have arms to clean the atelier when you annoy me. How does one punish this? Unplug it, perhaps? That's murder! Oh. Well, give it a brush - let's give it … Continue reading In a Cluttered Atelier →

Settling in with the Setting Sun

Her toes curled in her damp socks, drying in front of the little space heater beneath her desk. A cup of coffee-milk (to call it milk-coffee was to stretch towards fantasy) moved around her face: first to her left cheek, then her forehead, over to the right cheek, her lips, and then back again in … Continue reading Settling in with the Setting Sun →

To Nowhere and Back

The engine turned over at last, proceeded by a hoarse round of cheers. The New Year had come and gone huddled in the back of the old Honda, a burbling hookah and a crushed pack of old cigarettes (Quit smoking or quit buying, eh?) our only source of warmth. Our passing savior and her oversized … Continue reading To Nowhere and Back →

Phantasmagoria

As she mused over the whereabouts of the missing monks, a gust of wind tugged at her haori, and the reedy, distant laughter of children seemed to momentarily vanish from the chilled air. She took another wary step down the mountain path, but paused. There shouldn't be children on the mountain this late at night.

Remember When We Were

I believe that I have developed an odd sensibility about men and women, at least as I depict them in my poetry. I suppose I could track this arrested notion to my interactions with my mother, but I would rather not open myself up to Oedipal comparisons, so let's assume this mild distortion was formulated … Continue reading Remember When We Were →

It was a most troubling delivery

It was a most troubling delivery for Godot's Bistro. Clearly, the newest methamphetamines prescribed to his now second-favorite sous-chef did precisely their job in handling their worsening ADHD symptoms by obliterating a sense of general rationality altogether. "I must have... missed a decimal or two on the distributor's tags," the distressed sous-chef exclaimed, breaking out … Continue reading It was a most troubling delivery →

Endless Morning Sun

The eclipse behind my mind blots out the sun in imperfect ink droplets, radiating malignant rays of pain. The acrid smell of stale beer mixes with the bitter tang of discarded cigarette butts - a sumptuous bouquet of regret. I want to die, or just lie in bed until the crimson sun bursts from the … Continue reading Endless Morning Sun →

Alone on January 2, 2012

I took the train out from North York, staring at my phone and the last three messages I sent into the silent, digital maw. I bit back bitter tears, thinking that maybe I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time... with the wrong person. Luckily, most wrong places have train stations out.