When All the Streets Are Closed

I can't say enough about Cindy Bell and all the other editors at Flashquake.  They have been supporting my work for years, both poetry and prose.  This short story was originally born as a hyper-cerebral poem that was almost as paralyzed at the rush-hour traffic depicted on the boulevard.  It took me eight years to figure out how to flesh it out as a story, to convert a failed Avante-garde experiment into a little hipster folktale.  My goal from now on is to only create music that the fabulous Miss Lucinda can dance to.

Flip to page 40 for the story:

http://www.flashquake.org/current-issue/