Pseudologia Fantastica / Fantastica Conficiens (Truth, Fiction, & Deceit)

I won’t lie—I am seven months behind in my National Geographic subscription. It’s not that I’m okay with letting things pile up. There’s just so much demand on my time. It’s a problem, but it only affects me. What am I to the big, wide world? Even still, I try to keep up. National Geographic... Continue Reading →

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Unsent Love Letter to Virginia Woolf (a poem)

[Scrawled on the steps of 46 Gordon Square, London, England, April 2014]   Dearest Vergie,   It may please you to know I took some time out of my busy itinerary today to visit you in Bloomsbury. I rang, but you must have missed the bell. that’s okay, most of us won’t even have well-wishers... Continue Reading →

Like They Said…

"I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us…we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A BOOK MUST BE THE AXE... Continue Reading →

I Seek the Bots

hashtagged, optimized, baptized by Google first page fresh meat desperate kid like like love? ok, let's not scroll too far three clicks, buzzwords, news cycling fake but not fiction fight the right causes network bridges don't burn no turning back algebra abracadabra algorithm all on the rhythm penis pills? mail-order wives? monthly income from home?... Continue Reading →

The Plaza Paper (A True Story)

I found it half-hidden in the seam of a decorative pillar. A standard white 8.5" x 11", filled with printed text on one-side. The font is size 11 Calibri, Microsoft Word's most recent default. The first thing I can tell is that someone opened the program and started typing before firing it off to the... Continue Reading →

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