Because Florida just can’t stop. You know the tune, sing along, make up your own words. (Apologies to Joanie Mitchell.) Despite Webster Barnaby’s wonderful name, and despite his ability to voice that he is confused and doesn’t understand a vulnerable population in America, he doesn’t take the next step that a decent person takes, especiallyContinue reading “Big Yellow Chickens– Florida is Where Woke Goes to Die, ch 6”
Category Archives: Journal
Julia’s Squeezy TV Remote
I was fortunate to have known all four of my grandparents as a child. The last to survive, my maternal grandfather, Clark, recently passed at a month shy of ninety-nine. He was a machinist, a veteran (though he never talked about that), and tinkerer. He had a motorcycle, the first one I ever rode on.Continue reading “Julia’s Squeezy TV Remote”
On the Ledge, Waiting for Flouride
We were waiting in line, up against the wall in the hallway outside the lunchroom. My feet were on the dark brown strip of speckled terrazzo bordering the wall, it was separated from the main field of the hallway floor by a thin brass line. I stood on the darker brown floor along the wallContinue reading “On the Ledge, Waiting for Flouride”
God, All He Ever Does is Talk About that Fire – Florida is Where Woke Goes to Die chapter 5
A short play about the cultural center of American Fascism: Florida, where woke goes to die
2 Poems Published in Suburban Witchcraft
I’m pleased to announce 2 of my recent poems have been published in the current issue of Suburban Witchcraft magazine. This is their fourth issue, and is the second time I’ve been included. It’s a beautiful collection of stories and art and poetry. My poem An Aubergine Ending, concerning life with my witchy night doulaContinue reading “2 Poems Published in Suburban Witchcraft”
It Was a Movie Day
It was a movie day. The projector was already set up, I could picture the screen unrolling, Mr. Fallon tipping the long, varnished and brass-tipped oak pole up to the top of the blinds, turning the little fixture thing which dropped them like theater curtains, dimming the room. Then he’d turn off the lights withContinue reading “It Was a Movie Day”
A story about church and trust and death
Monsignor Hannan reminded me of a wadded up piece of paper. Pale, bent, and curled up awkwardly at the edges in his arthritic stubs of fingers and permanently creased and bent black leather shoes. He had little, wet, blue eyes. Like someone had flung two droplets of water onto the wadded up paper, and they’dContinue reading “A story about church and trust and death”
Death of the Underdog or Ready for Violence – Coming out Bi part 9
Again, it’s been a while since my last piece in this Coming Out series. I mentioned prior that it keeps getting harder to write as it keeps getting closer to home; the things I discover in my memory are tied to feelings I currently carry, like a kink in the neck I wake up withContinue reading “Death of the Underdog or Ready for Violence – Coming out Bi part 9”
Congratulations, it’s a sissy – coming out bi part 8
It’s been a minute since the last installment of this series. Turns out this gets harder to write as I go. If you’d like to catch up, you can click on the ‘journal’ link, and scroll back to earlier posts. Late summer 1990. I was 19, a long-haired, long-bearded, stinky hippie. A functional alcoholic, aContinue reading “Congratulations, it’s a sissy – coming out bi part 8”
Read my story in Suburban Witchcraft Magazine
I’m pleased to let you know my story, Bioluminescence, has been published in Suburban Witchcraft Magazine. It’s a beautiful journal of poetry and art, plus one magical realism story by yours truly. Check it out here I’m making my way through it slowly still, stopping here and there to stretch my legs a bit andContinue reading “Read my story in Suburban Witchcraft Magazine”
Chris Bevens | pedalpoet 