A portfolio of creative work
Chapter 1. Haunted. My childhood bedroom was on the second story of the house which now belongs to my mother. The room was against the outer wall so that the slope of the roof was that of the ceiling of my bedroom. In winter it was always the coldest room in the house. I used … Continue reading Spirit Reports Chapter 1: Haunted
In the morning, in Prozac dreams, I have known myself to go to war. The fields of battle used to move and speak to me like waves and wind speak to the hull of a warship. I knew combatants as my friends from when I was younger than I am now. At the end … Continue reading Acts of War
Back home, my room is on the first floor, off the passageway to the Great Hall. Its not really mine any more though- its now on the market. It was listed after Avalon sold, which was a little after my grandfather died. That was when the Green Knight came to call, and Tristan and Isolde … Continue reading The Green Knight
I have yet to depart the many mastheads of Falmouth Harbor, and though the ferry has carried me to and from the Island, it has never carried me across the sea. That is not to say that I have not traveled. I have been far and wide in my town; found the hidden places like … Continue reading False Lights
I would like to fix something in earnest if possible. The things around my house, from the tap to the mattress frame, the burned out light bulbs no one has bothered to throw away, broken thermal fuses and half used cleaning supplies, all speak to an intrinsic nature when we are aware of our own … Continue reading Maintenance
There were black flies buzzing about my head, when I looked up from my book, and saw my old friend walking by. You and I gave each other a nod of recognition. I had't seen you in a few months, and I'd really been hoping we could avoid any more close encounters- now that we … Continue reading Hirō Onoda
I’ve seen you in recently taken pictures. The niceties of souvenir t-shirts, under the sun of the south. Fuck me, maybe you’ll soon have two of your own. But for the moment, I'm sure they're close enough. For them, you stand near the back with a smile. When they grow up, they’ll remember you, and … Continue reading The Principle of Distinction
In my last days as a student in Dublin Ireland, I took the early morning train to the city of Belfast. Though I was curious about the site of the tumultuous Troubles, and to see how a quarter of a country functions under a separate government, I will admit I made the trip because of … Continue reading H & W Yard Numbers 400 and 401
The ancient Soviet pipes in my friend’s apartment Left the water tasting Strongly of Iron Which came from the kitchen sink. Žižkov Television Tower stands Alien in the sky Over the Jewish quarter, And the medieval city. I peer through grates at the cluttered old cemetery. I got here on a night … Continue reading The Hunger Wall
Somewhere, you're playing board games on the coffee table with the dual innocence where we once were as children, but now we're soiled skin. There’s too much baggage in me and my brother's bedrooms. So you start anew at six and seven years old. These are the benefits of skipping the younger years. While you're at it, … Continue reading I Waterlogged the Electric Kettle
