Crumbling Asphalt

My libido is a cluster of seaweed caught between mechanical halves.

The Long Sad Song of the Shunt

I have a runny chest this morning. I can feel it. I hear it dripping like a faulty faucet. I was born with a condition known as hydrocephalus. It means cerebrospinal fluid builds up in this big ol’ noggin of mine. I was a baby with a gigantic head. My doctor once said, “You’re lucky…
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Three Goddamn People

Back in my cocaine days, I frequented a dealer named Ivan. He was a big Russian with a thick, formidable, Stalinesque mustache and a laugh like galloping horses. I once bought a gram from him and accidentally handed him too much money. Those were heady days and my math got scrambled. Ivan noticed the error…
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A Fairy Tale

Once upon another time—one distant from the one you’re reading this from—little nine-year-old Kamchi stood outside an arboreal dell and wondered about fairies. Her teacher, Mr. Krumple had taught her class that fairies were real. He even showed them photographic proof. Two small English girls had taken several pictures of frolicking fairies back in the…
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“These tales are visionary in a bottom-of-the-barrel pornographic way….” –Vickie T. Split, Abraxas Headache
“Kirton’s stories eke out feelings akin to warm red gelatin….” –Bruce Cloverleaf, Buff Spill Reviews
“These stories really hit you over the head with subtlety....” –Paul Gonk, Fossilized Prose Agenda
“I was relieved to read them….” –Garth Umberger III, Shoe Leather Surprise