has died, but will not be forgotten. These are some well-known facts in William Gay’s official biography: that he lived in a cabin in the woods, that he didn’t use email, that he worked in construction his whole life until someone finally noticed he was a great writer. But these facts tell only part of […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
Every time I tell this story, about me helping Charlie McMaster kill a whole passel of cats, people tend not to believe it. Maybe it’s that they can’t imagine real people living this way, and for that I can’t blame them, because no person should have to live a life like Charlie had to, but […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
She Likes to Work Graveyard She knows that the truck driver at the counter wants the pot rot, the thick pool of crusted coffee that’s been sitting for hours. She waits on the women off second shift at M&C Parts, their Ladies Night a quick bite of apple pie and a few sips of Just water, please. […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
The Cabin is one of those bars that has at least three pick-up trucks parked on the side no matter when, and inside it's dark and smells like beer as though a fine party had gone on the night before, and the place hasn't been aired out so there's a head start on the next […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
Jim twisted the skinny trunk of his body in a fast, violent jerk just as the cop grabbed the buckle of his left Harley Davidson boot. When the boot flopped off, Jim found himself sitting upright, ready to jump up and run. But then he felt the baton lock down on his neck. He wanted […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
Destruction cometh; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none. Ezekiel 7:25 Izard County, Arkansas November, 1861 If Lemuel Clump had been just a little bit quicker, he’d have known when to act just a little bit slower. It might have put off Ab Swinson in the first place when he’d come around with […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
young man you must not think of me in fertile terms except as we both love languages for love must not think of me as the riper chick to favor for your volcanic quakes I’m a plump old biddy foolish for a cock spouting his best doodle-doo come when you’d like I’d applaud yours of […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
The teal-green Everlast half shirt rode up right below his rib cage to reveal a dimple of belly button that the boys I knew, had always known, would’ve been embarrassed to show. That naked navel made my heart race when I watched him dangle upside down on the monkey bars. When he sat down in […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
Paint peeled from the clapboard siding, a house slanting sharply left; long broken, the windows were black eyes to the soul of what was left to linger. Inside, the stove pipe hung slightly askew where the cast iron belly once warmed the bones of seven kids. A moth-eaten quilt draped on the wicker rocker near […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
Combing the naked soil one country morning, my mammoth Pawpaw taught me to spot an Indian arrowhead amidst dun rocks, beneath the wheel of crow chatter filling pine shadows cast long like swords across buckbrush. Imagine my hands, the buck fever I would have felt (countryside echoing rifle-blast) if we had shadowed that day like […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
GUD: Greatest Uncommon Denominator (magazine) Issue 0
GUD: Greatest Uncommon Denominator (magazine) Issue 1
