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 →

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Truth, Fiction, and Nostalgia

I am unfashionably late to shamelessly self-promote some new prose that has come out earlier this month in Literary Orphans. As you will see in the table of contents, pieces are listed with approximate read times…so don’t be a dick and spend two fucking minutes reading something I humbly proffer two minutes of my writing... Continue Reading →

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