I'M NOT DEAD.

I've been writing a lot actually, a fuckload.

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

Subverged below
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.

-On religion.

Yeah, so there's some shit.
Don't fret, I haven't stopped writing.
Write!Write!Write! It was is great advice.