luminous work

Image-maker. In poetry, sound art, theater, collage.

i make things from words.  things that intend towards light.  here is that round box from the attic.  inside, letters, photographs, unlabeled cassette tapes.  some embossed invitations to my imaginative parties, which are select and increasingly irregular.  like you, i grow old.  i keep my hands busy and my mind occupied.  if it would be better to hold something in your hands other than a machine send me a message and i will send you something real.

black black bulldog


when love and failure are basically the same thing

cosmic dream radio, Episode 2

A radio poem about true love.  Where'd you lose that blasted key?

what on earth was I thinking?

"True love has not, as far as I know, been compared by the poets to a bulldog.  Yet it has the same sort of grip."  --Rebecca West.

Black, black, black is the color of my true love's hair.


sing, woman, sing. deer crash through windows. hell hounds want to play. this crappy bar? you've been here before. nothing's changed.  let's turn this basement into a club. everyone's looking for someplace to go.