As the sun beat my flesh, I could hear a great crack

echoing over the seas.

Like a chunk breaking off of an iceberg,

England left Europe to melt in the waves, and where

will the hungry bears live?

They swim and their fur clings down wetly to underfed bones

like moss growing on brittle twigs.

My poem, The Ending of the Advent, appears in the February issue of The Lake. It's a poem of a very specific period of time: December 2016, while I was reeling from the events of that year and looking forward to the inevitable horrors of 2017. I will have more sociopolitical poems than this one in print before the end of the year.

May your eyes be cleared of lies and may you rise. May you see the patterns of the past at last. May you be strong and wise enough to see what’s wrong and fight it for as long as you can fight. May you not be deceived by childish lies and may you know what’s true and right. 

On Modern Poetry

Poetry, in this modern world, must strengthen. If you are a poet who is worth anything, you are now writing poetry against the terrifying direction this world is taking. Remember that this means nothing if you are still writing to an audience of other poets who occasionally scan a magazine or press to see if it's for them. Poetry MUST have an impact.

This entire style of art has been largely overrun by Dunning-Kreuger effect and the worst of what free-verse could mean. This cannot just be confessions with obtuse imagery, no notable rhythm, and line breaks. Poetry should be for allowing non-poets to describe what they couldn't before.

Synaeresis

My poems "Owl" and "Lunatic Mood" can be found in Issue One of Harmonia Press's new literary magazine, Synaeresis.

(Where I said in my bio that I was published in "The Lovecraft Ezine", which is the title of an ezine of Lovecraftian horror, they thought I was being redundant about an ezine just called "The Lovecraft". I think they thought it was a whole different type of publication. I am sort of standing with one foot in Literature and the other foot in soft, comfortable Horror.)

My writing is a winner of Bogleech's 2016 Creepypasta Cookoff! Read them  under the subheading "Contest Winners", and if you know how to have a good time, read everything else.

4/6 of these stories and works were written specifically for the Creepypasta Cookoff, which is an excellent source of inspiration. Krokodil and The Dead Village were previously rejected by other publications I thought might enjoy them.

New Year, New Fear

I rang in the new year writing, despite my best intentions of spending it tossing and turning in bed begging for sleep to come so I could be rested for work in the morning. This is a good start, if you listen to those that say what you're doing at midnight on New Year's Eve will direct the course of your year.

2016 was a pretty good year for me, personally, but a terrible one for the world in general. My best hope is that this continues. I'd love for 2017 to be good for the world, but it's hard to see that happening without peaceful mind-worms infesting all our leaders. (We can fight against the mind worms, but I say give them a shot first, see how they do.)