21 March, 2022 Two years ago today, I was moving into a new house and putting many of my belongings…
Daily Existential Angst Diary (I’ll let y’all do the acronym)
**TRIGGER WARNING** UNALIVE ATTEMPT DISCUSSED IN BRIEF. In October 2019, I attempted, feebly, to unalive* myself by trying to swim…
Capturing Eruptions: Examining Catharsis Again
My poetry was recently described by a friend as “[capturing] the moment feelings erupt.” That striking (and much appreciated) description…
Writing in a Mobile Age: A Dinosaur Learns a New Trick
I am fifty-seven. I grew up in a time of pencils, ballpoints, fountain pens, and typewriters. I have, in the…
Chaos & Growth: An Auspicious Anniversary
In short order it will be the anniversary of “leaving.” I left my former home (and by extension, my second…
It’s Not Too Much to Ask: Revisiting and Requesting Respect
(Dec 18, 2018). I reach into myself—my past, my present, my imagined future—and find emptiness. From the time I was…
The Thing: Compartments, Poetry, and Brain Soup
My ex always said he could compartmentalize his thoughts. This allowed him to set aside external stresses and go about…
Art & Grief: Finding the Perfection in the Imperfect
I stitched and the dog snored and life was sweet and warm. I finished the biscornu and in all those stitches and waves and snoring came words for the page…
Porpoises and Purposes
A pod of porpoises often comes close to shore near our new home. It seems, if you’ll forgive the anthropomorphism, that they are making fun of the fishermen on shore.
Ghosts, Dead Heroes, and Subatomic Particles: A Short Essay on Inspiration.
I’ve been grieving since Monday, August 11. In this time, I’ve written and rewritten a short-short ghost story, but the…