A few things.
POETRY AFIELD was a huge success. We had great turnout, the feedback on our poets was amazing, and the bar asked for it to become a series. Maybe in 2020…the weather isn’t likely cooperating with us for the remainder of the fall. Also:
Old essay on inspirations
As I prepare to write a new essay on creative impulses, I revisited this old essay I wrote on craft for Dustin Brookshire’s blog I WAS BORN DOING REFERENCE WORK IN SIN.
“Why I Write”
I write because of the farm, where my grandfather planted sweet corn and cut his hair based on the moon phases. Where Skunk Tail hurdled a double-wire electric fence and stomped a dog to death for being too close to her calf. The farm was abundant living and
Reading Poster
Check out the poster for the reading I’m hosting later this month.
More New Poems
My byline-busy August 2019 wrapped up with three more poems debuting.
“Doubt” and “Spell for Which I Had No Use” appeared over at Pidgeonholes.
“Vascularity” appeared in the latest issue of Impossible Archetype.
Three very different poems, from three different projects.
“Visiting from Ohio”
Chelsea Station, a digital “magazine devoted to gay literature,” published a short poem of mine this month. “Visiting from Ohio” was inspired by the ease with which men in New York look at you on the street compared to other parts of the country and what that look might actually mean in the long run of your romantic life.
“Missing Things” and “Be a Good Boy”
Two prose poems debut over at Homology Lit today, kicking off a busy August! Missing Things and Be a Good Boy started as hillbilly magic poems, but eventually metamorphosed into other, more splendid creatures.
Many thanks to Homology for giving these kids a home!
“Big Bang”
The first of several new poems debuting over the next few months arrives today over at 8 POEMS JOURNAL.
“Big Bang” looks at the origins and formations of identity against the backdrop of a universe by familial and galactic. Taken from my still-unpublished chapbook Sagittarius A*, the poem takes something as simple as a name and flings it through the stars and back into the solitude of night.
