Read my Project Proposal

 At Haunted Portal Magazine

The Lover's Eye finds the Real King

 

Thanks to Lover's Eye Press for publishing a poem of mine in their sex issue. I mean, sixth issue. The poem is titled: The Real King. Go for irrelevancy, the stay for the majesty.

A Short Story Up Against the Purple Wall

A short of mine, "Delusions of Failure" is up at Purple Wall. Normally I would tell you to read it and enjoy this story about a mysterious DVD of the movie Ishtar. HOWEVER, this is different. Purple Wall posts stories and readers can vote on their favorites. So, read the story, vote using the link at the top, and look for an email with a code you can use to confirm your vote. Said email might be in your spam folder, so check there too.

I Think the Name of this Journal Unlocks a Spell or Something...

If you look closely, it says "Anti-Bank"

...but I don't know. I never read Larry Putter and Horse Kicker's Kidney Stone. Anyway, I have two poems in Rosette Maleficarum. One uses pop-up ads as a conceit, the other uses the mysterious ways of high finance.

New Poem in Neologism

New poem of mine in Neologism. Hopefully the formatting doesn't throw any of you off. If it does I can email you a copy to make heads or tails of what is going on.









Oh yeah, and you have to scroll to the bottom to read my work.

The Route of the Next Women's March on DC

Hopefully, we won't have to have another march like the one yesterday ever again. Nevertheless I think we need to be prepared for next time. While there was a planned route, it quickly broke down. It was for the best of reasons though, namely that so many people showed up! Inspiring as that may be, I doubt we'll have the freedom to organize ourselves and spread out peacefully under the noses of the authorities in the future.

Now I have no intention of mansplaining here, this is just an idea for the route of the next possible march to take. I think we should start at L'Enfant Plaza and from there head north. Just as a baby was born there once, so shall the next march be born there as well:

This will take the march through the Mall and next to all the important museums. Tourists won't be able to avoid us. After politicians, I think they're the next most important group to reach out to. Then at H Street we will branch off into two groups. Going any farther north will be trouble because there won't be enough space and amenities to support the protest:

One group will head east and curl around Union Station and end near the Capitol grounds to make our case heard to the legislative and judicial branches:

However, that will still leave the executive branch to reach out to, and reach out we will! How? By walking over to 17th Street, then going down past the White House to occupy the space between it and the Washington Monument:

So the next Women's March on DC will look something like this:

Wikipedia's diagram is insufficiently pink

Affirmation in Cleaver, another Appearance at Trial

A poem of mine, "Affirmation" is in Cleaver Mag. According to them I am a "Cleaver Emerging Artist." I hope you agree. There are several other emerging artists in this issue as well: Elizabeth Burkhalter, Kelly R. Samuels, Olivia Parkes, Jack Wills, Sam Brighton, and Michael Fischer.

As for my work, this isn't Affirmation in the spiritual sense, though perhaps the title does play off of it. In this particular work, I'm dealing with Affirmation in a legal sense because this poem is from my legal-based cycle, "Appearance at Trial." If any of you want to read the whole thing I can email it to you!

Some of the things discussed in this poem are: conscious pain and suffering, New York, paperclips, mercantilism, trusts, Discovery Zone, the Beach Boys, cents, Dinosaurs, corpses, and Billy Shears.

First Poem of 2014 Published

2014 is here and hopefully it will bring the change I need after nearly a decade of socioeconomic blue balls. I need a new everything. Sometimes I think about just burning my earthly possessions and walking off into the woods. Honey and locusts and sackcloth oh my! But then I look outside and see there's snow everywhere and the nearest woods are next to a school. They probably wouldn't like me staying overnight there. I've been slacking on the publishing front, so I've put out poems, seeing if anything sticks. Already there's one acceptance to report and link to, a poem of mine is up at Luciferous, a blog maintained by Craig Scott. No, it doesn't have anything to do with the Prince of Darkness. It's just a word which means "illuminating" both figuratively and literally.  

When Sartre Talked to Crabs

"Good morning, my little ones, how did you sleep?"  

"After the politicians, I went to the poets, the writers of tragedies and dithyrambs and the others, intending in their case to catch myself being more ignorant then [sic] they. So I took up those poems with which they seemed to have taken most trouble and asked them what they meant... I am ashamed to tell you the truth, gentlemen, but I must. Almost all the bystanders might have explained the poems better than their authors could. I soon realized that poets do not compose their poems with knowledge, but by some inborn talent and by inspiration, like seers and prophets who also say many fine things without any understanding of what they say... At the same time I saw that, because of their poetry, they thought themselves very wise men in other respects, which they were not. So there again I withdrew, thinking that I had the same advantage over them as I had over the politicians."

I think this section from Plato's Apology (spoken by Socrates) pretty much explains how I feel about this poem of mine in the Fox Chase Review.

Dirty Children's Stories and Other Tales

 

According to my stats, I'm big in the Ukraine this week, which is not an accusation that the Ukraine is weak in any shape or form.

This week I have two stories to present to you all.

The first is Archibald's First Words up at Fiction365.

The second is called Julia and Raul and is at Jersey Devil Press. This was an attempt to write a nice children's story and the result was, well, a little off the mark. I guess I should've chosen a different set of objects to imbue with human traits.



Ring Them Quail Bells

A short, speculative piece of mine is up at Quail Bell Magazine. It was posted back in 2006 on Flashes of Speculation, but it has been reborn here.

A Taste of the Grave

For all you squares and rube machines out there who just can't dig any of the poetry I've been posting up here, because you don't understand why lines of words end suddenly, I have a treat for you. That's right, I have a short story up at the Absent Willow Review called A Taste of the Grave. It's replete with magic, death, and the fantastical. I suppose one might call it suburban Gothic. Anyway, read away my readers.