For the Record

No, I still don’t post here, but I would hate for anybody to think I haven’t been writing.

I have a new chapbook manuscript of miniature poems (10 lines or less) I’ve been shopping around to publishers, as well as a growing sequence of prose poems that have consistently left print and digital publication editors of all stripes duly unimpressed.

Louis Jenkins makes it look easy. Russell Edson, Christopher Kennedy and Daniel Grandbois, too.

Here’s one of my unimpressive prose poems in case you don’t believe me:

Frozen Waffles

The former kings of high school slow dances stalk local grocery aisles late every Sunday night. Hobbled shopping carts are their partners in middle age. Fluorescent lights hum their lonely song.




For the Record

Four cents’ worth.

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‘s 2013 Summer Stories reading at The Union in downtown Minneapolis.


Four cents’ worth.

elimae and me.

I have a new poem in the latest edition of the online lit mag elimae. I’ve had a fair number of poems in elimae over the years. [Scroll through archives dating back to 1996 for daring writing by an incredible array of poets and flash fictioneers you’ve never heard of. I’m in there, too.]

Current editor Cooper Renner and founding editor Deron Bauman have always been very kind to my writing. They’ve been there for me whether my poems were funny, moody, ridiculous or elliptical.

Readers of Gordon Lish‘s legendary Quarterly might remember Cooper better as Cooper Esteban, the mad poet whose work was often the highlight of that mag’s back pages. Like the best of us without Knopf deals, he’s gone the ebook route with his fiction.

Founding and editing elimae’s first couple of years [and publishing a handful of beautiful handmade books that now go for big $$$ on Amazon and eBay] weren’t enough for Deron. [His video and still camera work are also worth searching out.] Deron also created Clusterflock, possibly the last authentic community blog doing what blogs did before the Web began to feel like a mall.

The ‘flockers don’t bother with cute recaps of SNL or pre-election debates. They’re too busy explicating spam email messages.

Smart, talented folks — good folks by any measure — are wherever you look. But you’re still responsible for opening your eyes. That’s what this new poem, called “Truckness,” is all about.

[Truck drawing by Cooper Renner]

elimae and me.

Home is where the heart attacks.

I’m a simple, small-town Indiana boy born and bred. But I still lit out for brighter horizons as soon as humanly possible, which meant after college, because the state paid for that shit. I moved over to Ohio for grad school. Then back to Indiana for a couple of months, while I looked for a job after school. Then I spent a few years in Chicago, which I later learned was in Illinois. From there I headed down to Missouri. And now I live in Minnesota, which feels like home half the time. That’s not bad after a dozen years, right? It doesn’t matter. Sometimes nothing looks familiar for miles in any direction and I remember that when I was a kid, Indiana’s state motto was “Wander Indiana.” Which I thought meant that Hoosiers were free to travel wherever they wished within state lines, but we weren’t allowed to leave.

Home is where the heart attacks.

Every job is an acting job.

I’m less busy than usual, but exponentially more stressed out of my mind.

That’s the only excuse I have for neglecting my reader.

Acting is hard. Dialogue does not stick to my brain, it turns out. I’ve never been the kind of guy to memorize sets or stories word-for-word. When not working directly from a script or set list, I’ve always outlined what I planned to perform, then talked loosely around that vaguely memorized outline.

This has turned me into a rambling, inconsistent stage performer. Or a shambolic, authentic charmer, if you happen to enjoy what I do.

My difficulties with the acting craft made me appreciate all the more Will Eno’s “Oh the Humanity and Other Good Intentions” when I saw The Peanut Butter Factory’s current production of it at Intermedia Arts. Christopher Kehoe, Mo Perry and Matt Sciple made Eno’s abstract, existential jokes sing with equal measures of dark comedy and genuine vulnerability.

That’s why I pitched the production for an MPR Art Hounds segment. Besides the fact that I love radio.

I could now promise to update this site more often once I’m done with the Fringe, but that would go against my commitment phobias. Let’s just take this as it goes and see what happens. We’re both grown-ups.

Every job is an acting job.

My thoughts exactly.

“The answer is never the answer. What’s really interesting is the mystery.” — Ken Kesey

“If you can’t write clearly, you probably don’t think nearly as well as you think you do.” — Kurt Vonnegut

‎”When you write from your gut and let the stuff stay flawed and don’t let anybody tell you to make it better, it can end up looking like nothing else.” — Louis CK

“Making people laugh is the lowest form of humor.” — Michael O’Donoghue

“I’m not a comedian. I’m Lenny Bruce.” — Lenny Bruce

“The important thing in writing is the capacity to astonish.” — Terry Southern

‎”It’s not that the Irish are cynical. It’s rather that they have a wonderful lack of respect for everything and everybody.” — Brendan Behan

“If you’re really a truth-teller, you better be funny. Because, otherwise, they will kill you.” — Fran Lebowitz

My thoughts exactly.