I guess I'm just more selective about what I publish, or I'm lazy.
Perhaps there will be a new stream of released work, or maybe this is just a small visible flash in my ever cooking pan.
Here's some old(ish) poetry:
On cold scoundrel plains,
A black bird did croon,
Tales of pithy pains
Avast the belly of the moon
Its pale grey glow;
Mice, men scampered and did;
toil, dug, did lump earth's
soil. Clothing in shine skid;
the quivering names of its births.
Nestled within, the bramble thorn branches;
of Zeus's grey beard
Pale people amongst dust, cities and ranches
scared as sheep to be sheared
Rev'rend oak beams; the dessert's aged giver
Limestone monoliths, abroad the great river,
Carvéd jade dragons, ruby laced cows
Smiling gold boulders, soothe the here and the now.
Yeah, so there's some shit.
Don't fret, I haven't stopped writing.