London, England
Poetry
Jack String and the Case of the Strange Influence
It's amazing to think, if not for my sixth grade teacher, I might be an engineer instead of a writer.
The Road Taken
It's something to accept - when I'm broke, when I'm sick, when I'm uncertain how far away from normalcy my next detour will take me - that every path leads to regrets, if I allow it to. I don't know how this one is going to turn out.
Charles Simic Reads A Selection of Poems
You murmur your poems in a hall of doors and mirrors and I strain to hear. Your voice barely carries
My Left Shoe
A Repost. "My Left Shoe" was originally published in Waterhouse Review. Ryan Gosling’s left shoe is made of gold and dipped in chocolate and if sold will save the orphanage. My left shoe is worn through the heel and reeks of chicken grease and stagnant mop water and if I were an orphan I’d think … Continue reading My Left Shoe
Not Titled
It’s not okay to be in love. It’s, in fact, a very dangerous thing. I’d recommend you avoid it, but it’s not much of a choice, is it? You know how the girls are...
Road To Nowhere: The totally made up story of how publishing my poetry chapbook turned into a nightmare
Copies of "The Road So Far" are no longer available to purchase. I would like to do something about that, but the truth is I have no control over it. "Why?" you ask. Let me tell you a story.
Love in the Time of Ebola
Tunnels fill and tunnels whistle with the passing of trains from Manhattan to Brooklyn, carrying doctors, patients, lovers and lusters, in expectant hesitation and anxious calculation
