Writer
Normally with Lucid Dreaming, my contributors create art, and I write something in response. This week, we’ve turned it on
Continue readingAnd now, for something just a little different…
… Continue readingAnd now, for something just a little different…
When I was five, I painted a picture of a heart. It was the first thing I’d ever made. My
Why do people always assume that I’M the bad guy? Sure, I’m a big guy. And yes, I’m scaly and
Her hand in his is warm, a mirror of the sun on his face. Though his steps are slow she
I whimper, pull the sleeping bag tighter over my head. His arms around me are strong, secure, but nothing feels
My mother used to tell me the fable of the mother bear and its cub. The story is a simple
You may have noticed there was no Lucid Dreaming post this week – that is because the novel undertaking is
This poem was originally published in an anthology called Revolution of the Undertones, by Scrap Paper Press. It’s no longer
Original published in Crow Toes Quarterly, a now defunct magazine. Once upon a time, in a small house on a
Hello my loyal follows. How quiet you are! You would have made excellent children in the 1800s. But I digress.