The writing

It was cold. The night licked at every crack in my drafty abode like a perverse harlot. She was out there. Peering through the thin part in my curtains through the dimming…

He looked up at The Man discerningly, but then confidence in his curiosity faltered, and he looked back down at his little hands. The Man's hands were calloused and rough, they…

Hell Is Empty Somewhere in Alberta, close to the southern Saskatchewan border, is Empty. The old road is gone; it's grown over. Just outside a shrinking clearing is a wood sign…

The first bump of 3mmc is long gone, but the 4mmc is lingering. It won't let go. It's infatuated with me. Warm and buzzy. Deeply revealing and simultaneously confusing. More 3mmc?…

I am sitting in a dog park in St Albert. I took in 3 big breaths of N,N DMT. And while I didn't have some breakthrough experience of my ego dissolving and becoming some thing…

The day started with me getting up, doing my morning routine then driving to Red Deer to work at Nolan’s house. I worked in his upstairs bathroom, removing tile, patching, and…

You are never as exhibitively candid As in the throes of passion. There your soul bared And your urgency And desperation, complacency Or command Is primal and loud... It is where…

Baby teeth in a jar beside the bed Have a smell Like baby's breath Fermented and distilled Into spirits That never float off of the floor, They sink in a river of complacency And…

Take in the sound as a whet; the crunching of snow under the night where frost waits for the air's embrace. There peers the solitude breath of nothing less than insignificance and…

Judas Iscariot On his twenty-seventh birthday hanged himself in the garden. He pissed himself Watering the ground under foot where the roots harden. The tepid knowledge of Stoic…

She looks out her window at the remnants of that year’s garden. Time, the banal paramour, runs its fingers through her ribcage into the heart she feeds an overflowing bowl of…

A poet sits at a desk under a stubborn warm light. Drunk on contemplation an old alcoholic with a dirty face, and a beautiful mind. He thoughtfully pulls the wings off a fly to…

Somewhere in Genesis Lot’s wife looked behind her. She was perhaps intrigued by the mayhem. She turned into a pillar of salt. Aren’t we all pillars of salt?

Something so fragile— the poetic divide. The oyster's heart inside the pearl, a worm that dissolved where it lay down and died.