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Fiction

Into the Vortex [excerpt]

The story has a life of its own. Things have a life of their own. We need to let them develop. But we don’t. Our preconceptions arrest their development. They are stillborn.

Market Correction

The state of affairs between men and women was not the fault of men, I assured him. We had given women everything they wanted at every turn, and still they were unsatisfied.

If You Love Something

The division of mankind into the haves and have-nots, the civilized and the uncivilized, the happy and the miserable, was a technical problem to be solved.

Nagasaki Boy

For many years Yashimoro had gazed at the sea from this beach, wondering about its mysteries. The whale was the most precious thing the sea had ever given him.

Standing Arrow Straight

He could cut his balls off. That would be a start. He had a vision of mass castration, of men cutting their balls off in the name of world peace.

The Hunting Cabin

For Richard, the essence of the unknown was contained in the non-human. Only alone could he plumb the great mysteries.

Laws of Physics

In knowing her, she would only fall away from him.

The Little Prince

Greg had always thought himself a real little aristocrat, above the common fray. In his detachment he felt superior.

Non-Fiction

Being and Becoming in America’s Abysmal Heartland

The Road expresses perfectly the form of existence that is continual Becoming without ever Being.

20.4 Hours in Hong Kong

The people move like clockwork in rhythm with colored lights and ticking hands. The city controls their movements. They are unable to escape its gravity.

Abyssophobia

Abyssophobia is a fear of bottomless depths. A man who sits alone in a room fears he may fall so deeply into himself that he never returns.

On Nature Walks, Anal Probes, and Shooting Sprees (Or, How I Spent My Summer Vacation)

Automated rental car return. Automated boarding pass issuance. Auto flush toilets. A machine that captures an image of my naked body.

Poetry

Unholy Roman Empire

Have you ever smelled human flesh burning? That’s the scent of Empire, boy. A tin of spearmint snuff. Makes the eyes water.

like Denver or wherever

Western sky just before sundown emotes white hot blues into my blood, as the mountains send word East, whispering of things West. In Denver, where you can see the earth run away from itself, kill the sky.

Bloodless

The Truth will not set you free; The truth is a 3-legged dog.

Pancho Doesn’t Live Here Amigo

The complex tears man asunder. What is simple heals him.