After Shock

the kids cling to us days after broken bottles a shattered clay skull novels scattered paintings hang askew they are still afraid and our words of comfort rupture trust with each aftershock

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The Dead AI version of Me: A Living Author's Exploration of Artificial Intelligence and a Dead Version of Himself [Part 1 of a 3 Part Series, Written by the Real, and Not-Dead-Yet Don Rearden]

A Man Named Moki

So Long, April

then in came the winds screaming down the mountain the giant hemlock shaking angry as us all that the end of April feels like the end of...