Tag Archives: Ted Jean

the trail tilts uphill among basaltic boulders big as black unwindowed houses under bare black branches of hazelnut and big leaf maple in a purl of light white snow being careful of his knee above the rime slimed rocky creek … Continue reading →

When he didn’t answer, she went upstairs and found him asleep, or so it seemed, but he was cold, mineral, a hieroglyph in flannel. She sat beside him, and thought of their son, eighteen, who loved him beyond reason, and … Continue reading →

(after Matthew Dickman) Your ankle is a mixed race Hollywood starlet with an insane body and an AA degree in theater from Chickasaw County Community College Your calf is a soulless teenage psychopath who lingers over the vodka selection so … Continue reading →