Fireside Tequila Chat

by Richard L. Matta A shot for me, a shot for you to feed your shooting flame. And here, your chance, crosscut shredder ribbons from these empties. The questions I never asked and the ones you never answered. They told me the ashes in urns are human but maybe not just yours. Scrapings off the

Stick It

by Richard L. Matta The phlebotomy classes paid off. I can tie off and stick like nobody’s business. For so long I’ve been been pricking the needle time and time again to float above the pain of betrayal and lost love and this cold isolation. I still have the teddy bear a chick left me