• blog


    Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. 30. Birthdays are surprisingly punctual. Same time every year. This year was just fine. All the birthday staples were available- cake, gifts… etc. I am getting closer and closer to the age that doesn’t look at a birthday and say,”Another year older! Joy!” No, I am starting to think,”Another year older? Oh damn.” But, every year I get a little wiser. Every year it gets harder for me to stay up late. Every year I look at younger people more and worry about the state of this country. Every year I wish a little more that the music would be turned…

  • poems,  poetry

    cold rain does it to me every time.

    frigid rain fogging up black thick frames knit wool tight over ears and eyebrows. howling wind through cotton and denim sleeves over numb fingers new shoes kicking icy puddles racing dreams thoughts of places far and hearts close longing for the chill to subside time forgotten in stares through wet windows and shining metal playing out a life needed