The Safety Pin Review

A Note on Dormancy.

Sad that one of my favorite Literary magazines is closing; however, I’m so glad to have been a part of them. I really enjoyed my time being a Safety Pin Review operative, and to be honest, I still have the poem safety pinned on the back of my jacket and wear it around from time to time. I’m thankful for the opportunities and inspiration Safety Pin Review gave me, they have impacted my writing in more ways than I can count.

A Meeting of Monsters

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” He backed up into the clothes, nervously. He squinted through the hanging shirts at the girl looking through them.

He’d been so careful all these years. The girl paused at a red flannel, and he took the opportunity to scoot to the other end of the closet. She pulled out the shirt and turned her back for a moment. He bit his lip and watched her back.

He had to do something. Looking around nervously, he stepped out of the closet. The carpet tickled his toes. He chewed on the inside of his lip and tiptoed across the room towards the bed. He could hide there.

Ducking down, he crawled under the bed. He curled up, bringing his knees to his chest, trying to quiet his breath. He listened to the girl walk around and hum. The buzz of her hairdryer clicked on and he shivered. He hated that thing.

He watched from under the bed as she slipped on her shoes. Moments later the light shut off and he was left in darkness. He let out a sigh of relief.

“Um, excuse me, who are you?” A voice hissed next to him. He jumped, his head hitting one of the slats supporting the mattress. With a curse, he scooted out from the bed and sat up. He closed his eyes and rubbed the top of his head.

“I believe I asked who you were.”

He opened his eyes and looked at the bed. There was someone under there. He’d messed up. He’d let someone see him.

“Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to ask?”

If he killed the person, everything would be okay, right? He shook his head. No. That wouldn’t work. They’d start investigating if they found a dead body in the room. A grunt came from under the bed.

“Were you raised in a barn, man?”

A pale hand thrust itself out of the darkness and snapped its fingers at him. He scuttled away, his back hitting the dresser.

“Scaredy cat, much?” Annoyance had seeped into the voice. The fingers tapped against the carpet, and the voice sighed. He chewed his lower lip and wrapped his arms around himself. Another hand emerged and sat next to the other.

“If you don’t answer, I’m coming out.” The voice said, as the hands pointed at him. He shook his head and pressed himself against the dresser. The council was going to find out. Everything was ruined.

“Alright, here I come, ready or not.” The hands crawled forward, revealing long knobby arms. He stood up and looked around the room, nervously. There had to be somewhere he could hide. He glanced at the closet and stepped towards it. If he could get in it, he’d be okay.

“Don’t you go running away, I’m already out.” The voice said, exasperated. He glanced back towards the bed. The arms were attached to a short, bloated creature. It looked him over and smiled, a single tooth sticking out of its upper gum.

“So you’re the monster in the closet?” The creature asked, raising one of its pale eyebrows, “Nice to finally meet you. I’m the monster under the bed.”

Toast is Just Bread That Put Up a Fight Cover!

Hey guys, we’ve finished the covers for my chapbook. Check them out! cover coverpage

Let me know what you think in the comments. The book itself should be coming out soon. We’re thinking of even possibly releasing it this weekend! Stay tuned!


Insomnia doesn’t like pillow fights.

I’m having a pillow fight

with the ghost that lives in

the corner opposite the window.


I throw the pillow at her face, 

but it just ends up spit stained

and back in my own.


The clock butts in, hands on his hips,

to say that the sun is done fucking the earth

and I should really dress myself to greet him.


I throw my pillow at the analog face, 

only to have a hole cut in the pillow case

and it shoved over my head

as a semi appropriate dress.


The ghost waves as I pull at the hem

of my too short dress before laying her head

on the naked pillow in the corner opposite the window.













Two Chewbaccas Chew Tobacco

I took my first hit
at the tender age of 18

and fell in love
with the fabric of a couch.

We made love
in the way couches do,

cushions pushed up
just enough to show the springs.

Afterwards, my friends took the dog on a walk
leaving me to have
the after-fuck talk with the furniture.

It kicked me out, so I tried to bum
a cigarette from my friends outside,
but instead they sprayed me with a perfume
and gave me a lightsaber, fishing hat, and
a homespun sweater.



May the Fourth be with you.


I’m sitting on the curb
waiting for the zombies to
press start,

so I can start collecting coins
to buy canned food
and power-ups.

I want to unlock
the phoenix super-kick.
(I’ve always dreamed of
being a street-fighter.)

I just need the heads of
two more zombies,
the virginity of a NPC
and 10,000 coins.
I could always
buy some with
the RL money
I earned from
my college work-study job.



April 26 2014

Day 26 of NaPoWriMo


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