New on Sonora Online
Announcing the winners of our 2020 Contests in Flash Prose, Nonfiction, Poetry, and Fiction
I stew with my material for a while. Really work on that broth. Through a combination of association and intentionality and mixed metaphors and a plastic wand within which fake flowers are revealed only if a certain button is pressed just so, the magic happens. Who can say how, or why?
the sacrament parts
from a tongue
i told you
Bermuda grass is a weed, in my mind. Something unwanted, with a root system extending 35 feet down into the bowels of the wash that runs through my neighborhood. A friend told me this, with a sad smile, when I mentioned to her that I pull it.
My sister has been to Vauxhall. Of course she has. She’s been everywhere in London. When she was drunk one night, she told me what men do together on the dark and winding paths of the pleasure garden.