I thought I lost this poem of sorts! Written for someone across the world. I know you. There are forks of recognition and there are certain winds that can tell you the same thing. Spinning madly beyond some Eternal Nation aloft missing pens and inconsequential worries, we threaten each other with hexes we wish could…

Read Death in Little Doses, Part 1 of 2 first. They called the day the Real Death Anniversary of King Julian, the day when he manifested the first signs of change. The pirates from Far Away, who had been stealing scandalous amounts of corn and rice from the community warehouse, had been killed using a…

Here’s a story that’s yet to find another home.   Griffin stared at the long, purple, strangely luminescent blades of grass as he dragged the final words to the story from his lips. The tiny flower heads that were there and not there nodded at him, absently prodding him with the polite attention of strangers.…

First posted on Facebook on February 7, 2011 at 1:29pm We are at war with ourselves everyday. We stare at these walls like they will eat us alive, like they are eating us alive, gnawing at our flesh and feasting on our blood. We feel compelled to fight–how else do you get rid of that almost…

They tell me not to drink coffee in the afternoons But, oh well, here we are. It is Dark, dark, and the rattling of persistent appliances Is music to ears For all the chaos of mornings and peak-energy afternoons There is something I respect In this silent plodding of human owls Plod, plod, nobody says…

This used to be here. Now it’s here.

And so together we think about the future like it’s already there. Thing is she’s at the other side of the universe next to ours and we twiddle our thumbs aching for the next run. I’ve come to grow familiar with the pain. You’d know it, like an automatic reflex. Like breathing, only this one…