Category Archives: Monologue

My Heart (may or may not go on)

*(originally published in the collection Telling Lies And Disappointing People) Yvette broke up with me soon after I sat her down and explained that I had a baboon’s heart and was incapable of experiencing strong emotion. She didn’t believe me,

My Heart (may or may not go on)

*(originally published in the collection Telling Lies And Disappointing People) Yvette broke up with me soon after I sat her down and explained that I had a baboon’s heart and was incapable of experiencing strong emotion. She didn’t believe me,

From The Wolves

*(originally published at Housefire Books) I thought we had an understanding, the raccoons and me. Not friendship necessarily, but a certain respect, born less from fear than mutual admiration. Hakuna Matata. But thanks to those treacherous creatures I recently learned

From The Wolves

*(originally published at Housefire Books) I thought we had an understanding, the raccoons and me. Not friendship necessarily, but a certain respect, born less from fear than mutual admiration. Hakuna Matata. But thanks to those treacherous creatures I recently learned

Don’t Call Me A Monster

Sometimes the smooth whisper of a jazz melody will drift through my open window as I sit at my desk smoking countless Robusta cigars. When the sound of the saxophone reaches my ears I’ll lean back in my human-skin throne

Don’t Call Me A Monster

Sometimes the smooth whisper of a jazz melody will drift through my open window as I sit at my desk smoking countless Robusta cigars. When the sound of the saxophone reaches my ears I’ll lean back in my human-skin throne

The Justin Paradox or Happy Summertime

*(originally published in Futro Magazine) I’m gripping the wheel of my fluorescent green Lamborghini so tight I feel my knuckles going white under these eel-skin driving gloves. I’m yoking all twelve cylinders, whipping the thing across busy lanes of traffic

The Justin Paradox or Happy Summertime

*(originally published in Futro Magazine) I’m gripping the wheel of my fluorescent green Lamborghini so tight I feel my knuckles going white under these eel-skin driving gloves. I’m yoking all twelve cylinders, whipping the thing across busy lanes of traffic

Soliloquies From The Heartland #2

I spent most of the morning eating oatmeal at the kitchen table until my buddy Ryan called me and said something that I don’t remember anymore. I knew I was supposed to go somewhere. I wasn’t really planning on going

Soliloquies From The Heartland #2

I spent most of the morning eating oatmeal at the kitchen table until my buddy Ryan called me and said something that I don’t remember anymore. I knew I was supposed to go somewhere. I wasn’t really planning on going