The Poet’s Curse (a prose poem)

You humiliated the Netherworld Poet + now you must pay – the only way to avoid his curse is to sacrifice your first-born son. The Poet cackles like a hyena on arid plains of this sun-soaked frontier – you dared question his knowledge of tribe + kingdom that’s your birthright to lead.

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The Church & the Park (a drawing)

Here’s another one of my art therapy drawings. Like many people, I love old churches, especially ones with big steeples and clocks. I also like this drawing because of the wide expanse of the grassy area.

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Groans of Thunder (a poem)

Dark clouds gather + block a stifling sun, breaking the heat

of oppressive summer days – we’re in a daze, at a standstill,

shops closed + mask-wearing maniacs stashing cash

under dirty mattresses in case of economic collapse –

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