2019

So much to write. So little time.

In which I issue an apology to any number of people I may have wronged and, in so doing, (I hope) clear up an unfortunate and lengthy case of writer’s block.

My fellow humans disappoint me. Unspeakable violence reverberates. The world is made badly.

A haiku about the moment of connection — or disconnection.

Writer’s block, terror, and the strange paralysis of not being able to write about something awesome — even when a woman’s mouth hangs in the balance.

The bartender gets a name — his choice, not mine.

There’s a not insignificant part of Donald that likes being spanked by Nancy.

A night at the bar.