Saturday evening

Breathing the water out
Takes concentration for
The fever within
When rocks and shells work their way
To your toes
While glass can't break
The surface
In

Atlantic p. 80

Every wire - a nerve

And every Nerve - a fire

Forcing through - the electric skin

Bundling back to - serve

3hakc

The strayed concentration

Of crafting the mask

Meets blankness in the light of day

For all of the layers, and flesh of greys -

Comes undone with the shade, and gaze

 

The straight concentration

The pressures of day align

With the pressures of night - to day

When the urges of light

Merge the shadows of pathos

The hours seem longer - than staying

10 - **

Dawn, and blue skies and beaches and sand

That covers your calf and slips down your arm

The memories of safety and shelter - betray

The storms of the embedded,

The Eyes in the waves

-

That History follow you, even here

20 (is about right)

If there's nothing left to say

Then what you said before

And what you said before


With the windows up,

We whisper and squint

We - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

POEZIYA

ничего ничего 

никогда нигде нитам 


низдесь нитуда ни о ч

ем, ни у чем ни с ч

ем, ни к чем, нининини 

отокувсюду 



не значит

five, september

Crowds have their wisdom

In burning the space

That for you meant oxygen

For the fire - disgrace

Hack 3

The strayed concentration

Of crafting the mask

Meets blankness in the light of day

For all of the layers, and flesh of greys -

Comes undone with the shade, and gaze

 

19 why would you want to face

why wouldn't you want to face

the doors without to stay

when the corners of a room can hide so much

and sleep - keeps thoughts at bay

21, hit

Turn out the lights

And got to bed

The dark will stay tonight



In the drawer

And sheeted sweat

Under the cover of sleep



Wait for morning

If now you can

- Wait for the dark to light

What we know...

What we know is what they know

And what everyone knows - now

the smoking gun - the conceit of the heights

to looks down means not looking up

#4

The crystallization - of time

The transportation - of the words

That all fall out when you shake them up

And left - a name - to stay

August - 15 -15

The eyes have eyes have eyes have eyes

And brains - to squeeze and smell

If you could escape - the switch of the past

If you could turn the shade - back on

18_Aug / a year and change later

Repetition only - helps

If the muscles - know the game

While here - just spins out

Of pictures - you scratch - again

new short story up online: Daniil Ivanovich Kharms

I wrote a new short story that's made it's way out into the internet tubes - Daniil Ivanovich Kharms.

If you life self-referential fiction that is so self-referential it burns out the sun, check it out over at The Ironic Fantastic #2 (a free ebook).

New short story up: Something Anonymous

This post is a little late in coming, but I should mention that I have a new short story up online at The Prague Review.  Here the write-up from the site:

Certain scenes require very little introduction. They need no explanation and would find ruin in the ornamentation of further elaboration. Think: Paris. 1944. San Francisco 1965. Prague 1989. And so it is with Joshua Walker's Something Anonymous. It's a story that needs little initiation. Let's begin it simply. Liquor store. 11:30 p.m.

I'll take it!

New short story up: Cafe Two Times Bright

I have a new short story up - follow the links to:

     Cafe Two Times Bright

:: John was staring at the classic radiant Russian blonde ...

... [ published at pif magazine ] ...

Coursing the poison to drink

On such a banal day 

The world could end and

You'd be checking your phone

Glancing at the traffic

Yes I Will

The first is a series of 15-Year-Old Poetry:


Yes I will allow you to look into my eyes
Even he with white-washed walls will not soon arise
Many scores of caverns deep, and lush forests' cries
Have I transversed, beaten, drowned, and let myself despised

Down within the pupil, that murky marred stone
The light of a thousand burnt-out candles has forever shown
The pain inside it, strong and lean, is leagues from having flown
It remains there, drawing, feeding; stalwart in its tomb

Jammed in golden laurel leaves the king stands so tall
Mice to men, and babes to beasts he watches as it falls
In the stillness of that hour, he with rising power to call
Is the chaos of the night, is the demon out of sight

Along the hill of fallen men the glory takes its toll
But in this way they did not drop for you to mete and dole
You would yourself have beaten down, to shake to stir to stone
All in the spite that you just can't see what makes a poet's soul

Two new series: Insomnia Poetry, and 15-Year-Old Poetry

It's been a while since I've added new content (apart from links to publications) so I thought I'd start two new series.

The first is Insomnia Poetry, or things I write in my dayplanner when I can't fall asleep.

The second series will be 15-Year-Old Poetry which is pretty much what it sounds like: stuff I wrote as a young lad o' 15. Some early 16 may be mixed in, but even then I had the tendency to not date my work and thus forever imperiling the research of future generations of literary scholars.

First 15YO poem is coming up soon.

Newest Story up online: Open-Minded Gentleman

My newest story is up online here.

Feel free to join the comments and complain about my usage of colons, "Cock-Sucker Lips," and a narrator who (possibly) dies at the end of the story.

Or is it too much a parody of Russian Literature. I don't know anything about Russian literature, but I have a very strong opinion on the matter.

If you've been redirected from the Everyday Fiction page, welcome! My complete list of short story pubs is here.

New story coming out next week

Dear: My five readers.

I have a new story coming out, that will be published April 7, at Everyday Fiction.

It is a story I have tried to place for three years, and I'm happy to find it a home.

Will update then.

Newest Story up online: Tanya's Bare Legs

My second publication over at Thieves Jargon. You can find the link to the story here and a very unhelpful message board - hijacked by some DB named "Mather" - here.

The tagline they put up with the story is "--Vodka, cotton panties, and how to be a Muscovite." Which really sums it up.

I should also add that this was one of the better editorial experiences I've had with the online publishing ezine smallpress world - they really care about the details over at TJ. I think we went through about 5 drafts of the ending before we felt we had it right, so any comments about that section would be welcome.

That's all, kids.

new story up online - crossroads

My newest story, Crossroads, is up online at Sein und Werden here. The December issue is based around the theme of the Bauhaus, which was not not only the inspiration for a lot of the cooler things at ikea but also a major architectural/furniture movements that fuses form and function.

According to wikipedia it's:

a school in Germany that combined crafts and the fine arts, and was famous for the approach to design that it publicized and taught. It operated from 1919 to 1933.

Thanks, wikipedia.

So check out how various short story writers have applied this theme to fiction ....

Keep checking this space - I have another short coming up within the month.