What does it mean to make art in the boonies, pore long over sentences that never scale the muckety-muck steps of public attention? How does one who loves the civic beauty of words keep forking them onto the floor? [Read More]
La Señora de las Tortas
Mid-morning cake is not what I’m after,
and my few words of Español are inadequate for dialog.
[Read More]
The Parable of the Waters
And it came to pass all the waters of the planet roared
to the God of the Universe and Handmaiden Moon. [Read More]
