Tuesday, February 26, 2019

Try not to think about people who are writing facile things on the Internet. Remember the radical ancestor poets who have gone before, especially those who receive less acknowledgement than they should have, those whose genius was insufficiency recognized. When you feel paralyzed by the pointlessness of temporary fashion, or when dull or predictable work is lauded, try new things that will surprise you as you work for the joy of the process, remembering that all a writer needs are four true readers and one of them can be a tree.

Brenda Hillman 

Sunday, February 24, 2019


Wednesday, February 20, 2019

It's not so much that I'm busy or quiet or have fallen permanently down or even stayed too long at the candy store. It's more like I'm in a waking coma. This may be what calm feels like. I'm not sure. It's weird to be not worrying about much. It feels like new shoes that are maybe taller in the heel that what I'm used to or maybe it feels like when my headache goes away and it takes me a few minutes to notice it maybe that or maybe it's like the seconds before you die the milliseconds where you are finally forced to stop thinking about dying entirely. 

Monday, February 4, 2019

Pig and farm report

It is Narnia winter on the island
I am here but I am busy writing finally
I am here but I am trying to figure out how to unscramble and post something truly horrifying and damaging a former reader a former human told me about himself that needs to be written here
Never confuse writers with priests
Never confess to someone holding a pen to your throat

Safe and warm 
I’ll return soon