The Return, Mike Dillon — Finishing Line Press, $14.99.
Mike Dillon’s experience in haiku fills his longer-form poetry as well. The Return brims with potent, economical, imagistic poems—the publisher’s description as “laconic” is apt. The poetry’s brevity is a strength, inviting contemplation. The poems draw from a deep well of faith; not a sentimental faith, but a faith that knows sin, suffering, and death, as well as forgiveness, joy, and resurrection.
Continue reading “The Return — A Review”
A little while back, I submitted some poetry to Grand Little Things. Patrick, the editor over there, curates mostly formal poetry, and I’ve admired his work for some time now. Patrick accepted my poetry, and I’m thrilled to join the poets whose work has found a home with GLT.
Continue reading “New Poetry at Grand Little Things”
Edit: This post is also available as a letter to the editor at Holy City Sinner, and as one of the posts I have shared on Medium.
In Latin, they ask “cui bono?” In English, they ask “who benefits?” In American, we respond “follow the money.” I present South Carolina House Bill H.3681. Let’s find out who benefits from a bill that denies municipal governments the ability to regulate nicotine sales.
Continue reading “H. 3681 is bad for South Carolina”
Poets say different things about the month of April. Chaucer says that April has sweet showers. Eliot writes that April is the cruelest month. This year, I think they’re both right.
Continue reading “Why I Left Social Media”
Calling the Garden from the Grave, Lesley Clinton’s new chapbook (available here from Finishing Line Press, $14.99), is a collection of well-balanced tensions — rooted in place, yet unafraid to travel; modern in tone, yet grounded in tradition. Clinton has crafted these poems with care. The result is a chapbook deserving of careful readers.
Continue reading “Calling the Garden from the Grave — A Review”
This word count tracker is a killer productivity tool. It’s a spreadsheet that works in both Excel and Google Sheets. You’re welcome.
Continue reading “My Word Count and Deadline Tracker for 2022.”
Brian Fink invited an all-star lineup of poets to end 2020 with a little “poetry salvo.” By a slip of the thumb, he included me on the list. This was my entry.
The masses do not mourn the passing year.
As if a calendar could circumscribe
their suffering, they celebrate and cheer
this orbit’s end (and heavily imbibe).
Our planet now returns to take its place
by Two-Faced Janus (though I’m told that’s wrong—
it’s savage Juno’s month. Her only face
is cruel and unappeased by drink or song).
Like Sisyphus’s boulder, we spin back
to where we started, only to begin
our plodding pace around our starry track,
until we make our homeward turn again,
those lesser gods, each time- and season-bound,
mere passengers with us on this great round.
This is the hill I choose to die on: English writers should never use the word “utilize.”
Continue reading ““Utilize” is a terrible word.”
Among the pandemic’s many, much more pressing issues, I have struggled with a smaller thing: productivity. How does one produce anything in a pandemic?
Continue reading “Productivity In A Pandemic”