Poetry
I often write poems as a form of contemplation, not to be confused with navel-gazing, which is something I never do. To contemplate means to intentionally force one’s mind beneath the surface, to explore the subconscious, the meaning of a dream, or a once popular phrase that is now out of style. Poets see what is hidden. We care about the ordinary, too. We observe what others are doing in a coffee shop, or how dogs play, or how the rain drips from a half-shut mail box onto the letters within.
Hibachi 1625 BCE
I knew the Minoans were realthe day I saw the hibachi.Five skewers across stone racks,decoratively carved with oxen,to cook supper.An April day like any other.Wine
Flash Fiction
It is easy to write eighty thousand words about Herod the Great, but try writing a 100, or 50. In a few words, tell an amazing story. I like to start with a prompt; some random phrase or open ended question. Then, it’s like fishing. You play out a little line when you see the bobber bob. The hook catches and the reader wants more. Yes, there must be a hook before word number 27, and above it a sinker, upon it some bait. Worms require too many words to attach, switch them out for something shorter. Then switch it in some unpredictable way. Pull hard now. Reel them in before the word count reaches…
Bullet 25
Thaddeus McChesney leaned into you when he spoke. He gave you irrefutable advice and detailed explanations of the trivial. His job at the bottling company
