Gazing out the window, my thoughts drift to springtime. Springtime? I do not think that means what I think it means. It’s mid-April and the snow just. keeps. falling – 20 inches, with more on the way. I guess I’ll
Inspired by the shortest novel ever written, a six word story attributed to Hemingway, I have finally penned the penultimate poem (say that three times fast). My magnum opus. A single-word poem encompassing life, the universe and everything [pan to Douglas
If you can’t figure this out, it’s because it’s art (or… something).
As I wait to board another plane this morning, my thoughts drift from childhood to the autumn years of life. Sometimes they are not so different.
I hope this finally and succinctly drives a stake through the wattle of the world’s most tired, old joke. Sorry it had to be me, kids, but somebody had to step up to the plate. That’s one chicken who won’t be bothering us anymore.
Beck, my nine year old son, liked my first attempt at writing Haiku and wanted to write some together. I suggested we eat candy and play video games instead, but he forced me to sit on the floor and write with
