I’ve not been up to much, comedy-wise, in a very, very, very long time. If that’s why you’re here, I apologize. My time these days is mostly spent writing and reading little poems to people. For example, the video below is from when I got to read my poem “Requiem for a Revenant (in Memory of John Fahey)” at the 4th annual Great Twin Cities Poetry Read last April at Hamline University in St. Paul.
I ramble on at the start about John Fahey, but his music and writing mean a lot to me. Just play it. Thanks.
As usual this time of year, I’m pretty much passing the three hours of daylight wondering if I’ll survive another winter’s interminable darkness and sub-zero cold. I’ve been writing and publishing and working out some storytelling ideas, too. Because I’m doing December’s Two Chairs Telling at the Bryant-Lake Bowl. Jokes are on the back burner for now. So at least they’ll stay warm.
Online yoga/mindfulness magazine Elephant Journal recently published my poem “Whirligigs.” [Click the link.]
Revolver, force-feeders of pudding last summer, just published my poem “The Last Diving Horse in America.”
The above pic was taken the day before snow and temperatures fell as if tied to Wile E. Coyote’s ACME anvil. My face is too frozen to smile now. I’m sure people think I’ve gotten Botox. Take my word for it.
The latest edition of The Columnest recounts my experience as part of the Little Brown Mushroom Summer Camp for Socially Awkward Storytellers. My interview with The Missouri Review recounts my gradual decline from prodigious literary up-and-comer to over-the-hill stage performer/hack needy for laughs.
Speaking of which, here’s a snapshot of me berating the audience at Vita.mn‘s 2013 Summer Stories reading at The Union in downtown Minneapolis.
I’ve failed my four readers yet again. I’ve neglected this venue for weeks, in favor of living an offline life that included reading my story “The Four Hermans” at the Triple Rock Social Club like some sort of literary punk rocker and talking about comedy/storytelling for photographer Alec Soth‘s “Little Brown Mushroom Summer Camp for Socially Awkward Storytellers.” I also emceed the Summer Camp’s closing Slideshow and Dance at the Soap Factory. I wrote a new column and produced a new edition of the podcast in there somewhere, too. And “What Happened Next,” a new noir-ish flash piece, appeared online at Shotgun Honey. I almost forgot.
This pic is a $1 Portrait by LBM Summer Camper Tara Wray. She’s back in Vermont by now. I’m still here in Minneapolis, answering questions for The Missouri Review by email. More about that when the time comes.
All of my comedy and poetry responsibilities have been fulfilled! My performance calendar is empty for the first time in a while.
Maybe now I can get back to some projects I’ve been neglecting. Because the world deserves a one-act play from me. And possibly a new short story. And there’s always the podcast to attend to. And more little ditties to write and record.
After another cup of coffee, maybe. Or you’re also welcome to contact me about performance opportunities.