Gulf Stream Literary Magazine
Dad was infamous for the “jobs” he created for us on weekends, vacations, or any time there was a spare moment, especially if he heard giggling. Back then I thought nothing of these tasks: sharpening knives and tool blades with a massive kick-wheel whetstone; watering an acre of five-gallon saplings with a weak hose in […]
Wolves flank the scattered few who can’t keep up with migration while the rest continue westward as if nothing had been taken from them. Then there are horses refusing to save themselves from stable fire. By the river, a family divvies up ashes. At home, a family forgets where it put them. […]
Up and at ‘em like the morning wood, septuagenarian pig fuck. Make cocksure you’ve fastened oxygen mask to crotch. Digital age air aims bazookas at bravado. Wouldn’t want your slimy bullfrogs rotting off. Feed me another McProverb, Top Dog, artisanal chicken nugget baked in gold glitter. I need reassurance my next blackout will fuck me […]
I needed a home so I came to the city near the Gulf, to the clean little apartment with the pullout bed— for the first days it rained hard and I felt uneasy, my brain triggered the neurological pathways most familiar: endings, grief, and sorrow. At night I strolled the beach, impressed that I could […]
