Desperado Dispatches
Flash fiction, poetry, and stories built on neon, dust, and late nights. Start anywhere.
Raffish Rips —Clips & cuts: Lines of coastal Grit & the Neon abyss
“I was deep, and a seal’s rubbery coated skull popped out of the water. It shot me a smile and headed up-stream. I smiled back. We were nothing but passing parallel entities in the groove of intertwined infinity.” —NV
Dispatch—007: Short Shrift on the Livin-Grind
A quick rip from behind the redwood curtain Studying hard, working harder, and getting wilder, out in the frigid waves, off jagged cliffs, on the edge of rowdy nights and early morning fog drifts.
Desperado Dispatches: Field Report #001 Neon Notes, Piquant Philosophy & Chronicles from the Close-Out
Rip slashing desperado. Skull skating skeleton, surfing the streets like close-out barrels in the blaze of the fading sunset.
Fear Cringed Eyes
Fear Cringed Eyes — Somewhere Near the Cockroach Coastline — Night Descends — Nothing Works — It’s Bleak in the Blackness — Fear Floats the Loss of Hope.
Dispatch: Road Dog Files: Wet smokes & Gritty Lung Cockroach
Bizarre Biloxi — 08 Summer — 4th of July on the Cockroach Coastline — Humid and beer melted feet — Nights and no reprieve — Steve the Geez: Vietnam Vet — bottle of Jack, Handful of Mortars, and Mayhem on his Mind — he was back! — Sparks, it’s dark, explosions in the sky, except at knee high — Run for cover or lose and Eye.
Desperado Dispatches: Field Report #001 Neon Notes, Piquant Philosophy & Chronicles from the Close-Out
Rip slashing desperado. Skull skating skeleton, surfing the streets like close-out barrels in the blaze of the fading sunset.
It Might Just Be a Wednesday
It Might Just Be Wednesday
We ain’t so important. Hopefully, that eases our flow; beneath the torrid blasts of the vainglorious Sun-God – always shows up, always brash to prove its status: boss. Strong heat grows – just a regular blaze away, kind-of summer day.
The scorch can leave us haggard. No reprieve, and it’s not out of the ordinary, for the mess of soul-scrapin’ stress in the capital city – the chasm of chill – but there’s a spot to alleviate the rot….