Late New Year Post
The 2013–2014 new year post.
The Fiddle Player
The fiddle player sat upon the stage surveying all she saw; The dancers pranced upon the floor as many more came through the door and walked on down the hall.
Recipe for a Roadster
The recipe for a perfect roadster.
Costa Rica
Dust blows down empty streets in Manuel Antonio — what I saw in Costa Rica when I wasn't on the beach.
How I compute
How I do just about everything I do in more detail than you could possibly want.
The Door
A poem I wrote in 2006 after seeing a monologue from a performance of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper”.
A collection of limericks
Herein is a collection of verse; each written to be very terse. I hope you'll enjoy, that it doesn't annoy, and once read that you won't start to curse.
Don't be evil
Wherein I move many of my internet services away from Google Apps.
Deirdre
In the sticky, evening, Georgia heat we danced to the sound of a lone fiddle and two imagined guitars— Nearby, but fading: the laughter of children as they run to greet the truck which will take their quarters, and in return deliver temporary respite from the cruel Summer sun. The truck pulls away, piping its tinnie music into the air in hopes of enticing more quarters and dimes out of air-conditioned parlors and
College isn’t everything
Why college is over valued, and (maybe) not worth your time or money.