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.

Christmas in July

beasts breathing carbon and light

A new poem read normally.  Because it's cataclysmic all on its own.

cosmic dream radio , Episode 11

Trees that depend on cold to seed and fruit are "migrating" to more northern climes: with our help and on their own.  If that isn't mythology, what is?  Let's go there: into a lyric, liturgical mythology of polar bears, forests, and blistering-hot Christmas Eves.

The intro discusses a few of the true stories from this poem's genesis.


what on earth was I thinking?

I'm very proud of this poem.  It is one of the rare ones: ones I can only hope for 3 times or something in my whole life.

I grew up Christian in Georgia: In this poem my roots are showing.

Speaking of roots showing: it's almost my birthday!  Christmas Trees in the summer: my present to you.

Have you listened to first podcast?  It's about climate change, too.  I keep striking the subject from different directions...  Link below...

related links

Message to M13: My adolescent-stuck-in-a-small-town-with-a-ham-radio take on climate change

Listen to or download the poem without the intro on soundcloud:


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.