Medusa

Time period: 1940s, pre-Hiroshima Japan. [001, Aim] the aim was to miss. The cherry tree stood, unabashed, gazing placidly out along the little stream and rook. It was blossoming season, ...

NOTE: Any poetry in this peice is a derivative of love sonnets from Elizabeth Barrett Browning, my aunt's favorite inspirational poet* Dawn with Fox. Marianne paces the dusty space between ...

026. Eleven minutes to midnight It is eleven minutes to midnight, and my canvas blinks back a whisper of atrocity. Every line is a casualty. My brain burns with thoughts. ...

[021. Pandemonium] [Picture # 3] I am the people in their colored suits—going through the motions of a day’s work. The hours are hollow. The noise from the street, the ...

11:23 PM IN THE LOFT My name is Lauren Fields, and my daughter is a terrorist. It wasn’t hard to figure it out, you know. The first clue was all ...

Fear. It’s a word I will never understand. I sit on the edge of oblivion, my feet swing in tempo with the singing winds, and the little red glow of ...

Based on Love is a losing game by Amy Winehouse [spoiler] For you I was a flame Love is a losing game Five story fire as you came Love is ...

[045. shackles] Point of no return Roma, Italy. Holy city on the peninsula, I stand alone in shackles with gilded memoirs, cold engravings frozen in my steeples, bringing myself to ...

[.016, prayer] Land beyond the sea SF, Cali. (the land beyond the shining sea, Where sinners, saints can all be free.) was waiting for you to seek me gold-digging in ...

Romance is dead Everyone, watching. Watching me—that little scab with glasses. They’re waiting for something to happen, I know it, just like in a sick, corny chick movie; they’re waiting ...

Theatre Fantastique The curtains are a burnt orange, but with none of the allure of fire. Yet, staring at the moth-eaten cloth, she is reminded of fire. Many people calculate ...

Scottsdale 101 From the corner of 42nd and Shea, my city is a prostitute. She lives on the skin of my existence, in my pores, and when the lampposts shine ...

I am sitting next to a goddess, a goddess but also a demon from Hell; smoking her cigar while I chew the tip of my pencil like she’s fresh from ...

Don’t leave me this way she said with her fat lip and blood trickling --down, down, her chin like a vein growing on her dark skin it’s pulsing, a red ...