I felt as if I had displaced the last bobbin of my soul, like dominos falling on a stacked deck of cards, each piece tumbling into a void like a key without a hole. The threads of my mind...

Some people are having difficulty publishing their post, so I ask you to be patient as I figure this out. The work is going to Draft and can be released there if you need your work to be immediately...

A PoemA poem need not beornateor obscure.It doesn’t have to stretch longin tangled linesborrowed from dictionaries.And if you breathe oneinto being, let it speakplain and true.Let it linger with the readerlike an old friend—familiar, returning.A poem only asksto be...

In the sticky heat of a midnight confession booth where the whiskey's hour clings to my roots and the preacher don’t ask no questions, just slides me a cigarette through the grate,and ask me. "No regrets?" There's a bullet hole...