Words, words, words

The poem began as a class exercise. My students were experimenting with fixed and traditional form poems. I gave them the option of trying a villanelle or a sestina. Some had trouble getting started, so I offered a few images that they could pool from. We had discussed the form and how repetition functions differently […]

Explicating the Poetic Process

“My writing process saves a fair percentage of timefor self-doubt and lack of artistic confidence.” It starts with an encounter. There is a notarized mammal, a dead serpent, and a preserved misspelling. Then a mythical flash of inspiration, the grabbing for tool and template, and the clumsy yet magical act of documentation. Just like the […]

Upcoming release: Mouthbrooders–ready for pre-order

My new collection, Mouthbrooders, is ready to go to the printer for release in June. Order your copy and support Homebound Publications and get a 20% discount.

Wintering

Almost a foot of snow fell last night, and this morning’s best-laid plans were tossed away when the plowman’s tires spun more quickly than the clock which told me I’d be late for class. Machines did what machines do, a little better than we can do ourselves. Here’s to shovels shoveling. Waiting for the Plowman […]

Hypergraphia

Fill in the blank: Poetry is ____________ From Poetry 205 Fall 2017 to Poetry 205 Spring 2019. This poem was compiled from students’ responses to the above equation. What is Poetry? I. a baby’s first tears, wrapped in the arms of a mother with fears a cigarette bowing to the flame and a vision upon […]

Getting on with it

After the ice storm, it’s good to get back to the living world, back to performing ordinary acts. A Gathering of Sorts As morning curdles its way to noontime, autumn plays its lazy guitar. To join the living world, we make our way to the post office with enough change in hand for three stamps. […]

Lifting the dead

When I switched from squats to deadlifts a few weeks ago, I have to admit I was a little sad to give away one metaphor–carrying myself out of a burning building–for that of another–lifting the dead. But I got over it pretty quick, metaphorically at least. And I could say that my efforts are wrapped […]

Stoked

  The moon’s fingernail scrapes a far away gazer’s thoughts, breaking open her mind, freeing a thousand love songs stoked with lunar dust.