In Las Vegas, some white guy old enough to know better shot the hell out of a crowd of music goers from his 32nd-floor hotel room. Over 500 injured, and 60 dead. They say he’s a lone wolf, but personally, I don’t like the term. Makes him sound cool, don’t you think? And leave… Read more

  In a field of corn, she divides and comes back together again. In the time it takes to figure out the future, the past has already caught up with the present, much to my giddy delight. Crawling around on all fours as the sun lurks above, when she kisses the ground to be at… Read more

  In the doorway of some restaurant, we share a cigarette and shield ourselves from the harsh wind that blows. In a taxi through the backstreets of an unknown city, you rest your head on my shoulder, and I squeeze your thigh while gazing out the window into the darkness that spreads in every direction. Those… Read more

  The second volume of A Journal for Damned Lovers is comprised of prose written over a twelve-month period from February 2016 to February 2017. During that period, I wrote just under 130k words that ended up on the blog. After the completion of each piece, I saved them in a folder marked ‘Project X’.… Read more

  Prisms. Forests. Eyes of autumn and mouthfuls of air that pass from my mouth to yours. Scratches and handfuls of hair and bite marks that might or might not resemble the telltale signs of the stigmata. Looking at you as these thoughts dance through my mind, my tooth hurts, so I down several beers one… Read more

  Sat looking up at the ceiling with my eyes closed, I pictured her wrapped in a dressing gown, all curled up against me on some winter morning just like any other. It made me want her again, so much so that I grabbed a piece of paper and pen and thought about all the… Read more

  There’s toast and eggs and a few cigarettes and painkillers to ease the aching of my bones, and out of one eye I see you, and out of the other, a wall splashed with grease and other such muck. There’s a spider on the ceiling, and in the dining room, a bird in a cage… Read more

  Bibles. Secretion. Lovers in flames and lovers in denial. A kiss. Kisses. Beer and cigarettes and wine and those streets that dissolve only to come back together again when you’re sleeping. And when you sleep, where do you go? When your defences are down and the universe speaks to you in the language of… Read more

  On the surface of a faraway planet the likes of which none but us will ever glimpse, I make her lie down on her belly on a bed of sand. She rests her chin on the back of her hands, and as I part her legs and spread her sex, her eyes dilate and… Read more

  You get these four-year-old prodigies that can play the piano, and I just look at them and think, you little cunts. Here I am grinding through the days trying to become a better writer, and they just sit there acting like Beethoven as if it were no big deal. They’re almost as bad as… Read more