The name says it all.
Poetry and short stories:
These I write badly.
(Even that was a bad haiku)

Week #52: The Last

This time, the world will end in fire. Your dying sun is expanding closer and closer towards Earth, a red bubble that will consume you before stopping, and there is nothing left to be done. So, relax. With the time you have left, sit on the porch of your…

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Week #51: The Women

“There was this Spanish milf – I don’t know if she was an actual mom, but she had the mom jeans and everything – and you joke about Spanish girls having those fat asses, but this one actually had one, hanging out like those packing bubbles you can pop.…

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Week #50: The Funerals (Part 5 - The Grave)

The night Daddy died it hailed. Icy stones the size of marbles and golf balls and apples pelted the house and rattled the glass and scratched the siding, and one stone the size of a fist was so dense and tough that it crashed through the roof, and we took…

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Week #49: The Woven Creatures

The weaver weaves animals, and sometimes they come to life. There are about eight live ones now hopping around her small apartment, collecting dust in their fuzzy paws.

Today a ninth one is born, a hawk she has been weaving all weekend and all morning.…

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Writer’s Notes #3 (4 Weeks to Go!)

It’s strangely fitting that the first set of Writer’s Notes I posted was only 4 weeks into this project of mine, and this last set will be with only 4 weeks left! I totally planned it that way (no I didn’t).

To ground anyone new to this blog, or remind…

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Week #48: The Poet

I saw Mary, seated and waiting, before she saw me. She’d had her hair cut and styled so it was shiny and buoyant, and she wore this alluring turquoise dress and deep red lipstick, and she was leaning her head on her arm, looking utterly bored. I waved…

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Week #47: The Dark

Joel Buckley

One morning I opened my closet and found stars. I rubbed my eyes and blinked to make the sight go away, but nothing changed. There were twinkling pinpricks of light against a solid black void where my Hot Topic t-shirts and uncomfortable…

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Week #46: The Funerals (Part 4 - The Matriarch)

They call during dinner, of all times. Don’t answer it. Not yet.

Continue having your meal with Emma, who really does wear too much make-up, and Paul, that one from the coffee place you told me about over the phone. Paul with the corny jokes and handsome…

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Week #45: The Cottage That Touched The Sky

We lived, all eight of us, Daddy and Momma and Uncle Joel and us five kids, all in that cottage on the ocean beach, and every year the tides would come in deep and slosh Daddy’s floors with green saltwater and skittering hermit crabs and petrified…

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Week #44: The New God

God browses through the holiday market stands, sniffing the peppermint and mull-scented candles and admiring the DIY necklaces of foreign coins, when He spies His recent ex-disciple, Shelly, a few booths down.

For a time, she had been His favorite…

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