Simon Moya-Smith

December 14, 2014
BY:
Simon Moya-Smith
I couldn’t get up off the floor. I had collapsed on top of a stack of newspapers and atop my dry-cleaned, finely pressed suit and some soiled towels. I had completely lost every fucking marble I had.
December 01, 2014
BY:
Simon Moya-Smith
“What are you writing?” the man at the bar asked me. “A piece on Turkey’s president who recently said Muslims – not Columbus – discovered America.” “Well …. did they?” “Of course not!” I blurted. “And neither did the Jews.” “So it was Columbus, then...
July 13, 2014
BY:
Simon Moya-Smith
I was conducting some very serious research on priapism in the ranks of Custer’s 7th Cavalry when I stopped to read a feculent piece in The Denver Post Opinion section.
July 23, 2013
BY:
Simon Moya-Smith
On a commuter jet now—US Airways flight 2128—New York City to Boston.
June 19, 2013
BY:
Simon Moya-Smith
“What are you wearing?” I asked. “What?” he responded. He surveyed his chest. “This?” He then gripped a thin gold chain on his neck. “No. Your hat, man,” I said. “What does it mean?” “Oh, I don’t know. Nothing,” he responded. “It just matched my...