Below you'll find a list of all posts that have been categorized as “Publication News”
In Summer 2015, my poem, “Faced with a Towering Stack of Rubbermaid Bins, the Lifelong Incunabulist Contemplates (Yet Again) How Best to Deal with Four Decades of Notebooks that Require Destruction before the (Inevitable) End” was published in the Disobedient issue of Poemeleon…
In the Spring 2023 Oregon Poetry Association poetry contests, I got three honorable mentions for some of my newer poems. Now to find publication homes for them! Here’s the skinny: Honorable Mention for “Of the Wild Bees Living in a Tree in the Alley” in the Wildlife Themed Category…
My poem, “Record-breaking Winter Storm Tableau,” was featured in the April 2023 edition of Concordia News, the monthly neighborhood newsletter. A PDF version of the newsletter is here: concordiapdx.org/concordia-news/concordia-news-downloads. The italicized lines in this poem are from Emily Dickinson’s….
Two centos from my manuscript, I Am Speechless, have been selected for publication in We Dissent. We Resist. We Persist: An Anthology of Our Human Rights to be published by Flower Song Press in 2023. “The Poem of Your Body” was written after the May 2022 leak of a U.S. Supreme Court draft opinion….
In 2016, three of my poems, “Elegy for the Lifelong Incunabulist,” “One More Attempt to Set the Record Straight about the Breaking Out/Away/Off/Up/Down,” and “Voyage in …
So many of us look back, take stock, try to evaluate just what we have spent our days on in the living of this life. This has been a fertile subject for poetry for ages as well. In Summer 2015, VoiceCatcher published my poem, “How I Wasted My Life“ …
It is not my style to openly confess my sins—of which I am fully aware there are plenty and then some and perennially good at …
It’s nearly the end of this windy Monday. I am listening to the wind pitch the camellia and rhododendron trees out front into the leaded glass window. This is not a trivial storm, the rain and eddies of wind are definitely mixing it up out there, like we are the bowl of eggs, waiting to be stirred, to be beat. Every now and then, too, the obligatory window-rattling sounds…
