Category: Yo Ivanhoe

Since I was a child I’ve enjoyed end-of-the-world fiction based, however irresponsibly, on Biblical prophecy. There’s always been a good deal of this sort of thing around, but of late there’s been a splashy and satisfying surfeit of the stuff, and lots of other folks have been climbing on board the Glory Train. I guess…

You were talking about disinclination. Let’s explore that idea further, if we may. No, sorry, I thought I made it plenty fucking clear that I’m feeling disinclined. Well, perhaps then you might tell me a bit more about your travels in Saudi Arabia. I’m afraid you’ve once again mistaken me for another patient. I’ve never…

I’ve written previously about my love of indexes (or indices, if you’re so inclined), and my huge admiration for the people who make a living compiling these things. Many of these folks clearly have a perverse sense of humor and the souls of poets. Some of them are perhaps batshit crazy. Check out the decidedly…

I was put in this world to march, but one leg’s longer than the other, my boots are too tight, and I walk with a limp that gets more pronounced by the day. Still, those were my early orders: March. And I am a man who follows orders, if not instructions. Instructions, it seems to…

Sometimes I feel like the days are a floor I’m crawling across, blind, with a dead flower in my mouth, trying to find my way to the other side, which is here, and a few body lengths into the darkness beyond here. It’s a slow business, often bruising. Where did the flower come from? And…

This is always such a bittersweet night for me, as I curl up in my recliner before the fireplace with the last volume of poetry of the season and a glass of eggnog. Tomorrow, alas, all the verse will be packed away, the poetry decorations taken down, and the Caedmon Recordings of Poets will be…