One New Poem

eberhard grossgasteiger on Unsplash

My therapist's armchair creaks. Tell me: what is it

about hope that feels so challenging?

My poem "Pink Light (2021)" is out now in Moonchild Magazine. 

This publication is special to me for a few reasons. First, it's a sequel, and its predecessor also appeared in Moonchild, in 2019; and secondly, it comes with an extra-special audio version. I recommend listening with headphones and the volume up for the most immersive experience.

Recent Work

Photo: Anita Austvika via Unsplash

It's been a very fancy few months. Some recent publications:

• Two prose poems in Moonchild Magazine, Issue Six
• One micropoem in PØST, Issue V
• A reprint in Aesthetica Creative Writing Annual 2020
• A matchbox (!) from Post Ghost Press 
• One poem in small poems for the masses, volume five

Rerun Four: Wednesday in Therapy

Wednesday in Therapy

The bearskin rug that bit visitors was always my favorite. At Christmastime, our butler stood on the rooftop and doused carolers in boiling pitch. The mansion had trap doors, maim-you-if-you-misjudge-the-exit secret passageways. Carnivorous vines as silent as boa constrictors. A graveyard of gruesome statuary. The pits of quicksand. My father would throw an épée at anything that moved. Mother meticulously decapitated all the roses. Grandmama was always entertaining some demon or another. There were corpses in the closets, beasts with teeth in the bottoms of dresser drawers. No welcome mat, in other words. Yet still the villains got in.

They said we were safe
and flung open the front doors
to ravening wolves



Originally published in Moonchild Magazine.

[Image description: a color photograph of the Addams family mansion.]