Category Archives: Updates

Sometimes the weight of the pen is too much to pick up, a rusted rail embedded in the ground,   so you keep going, walking, looking and listening for words to lift those bodies buried in your chest   as if … Continue reading →

When I go traveling in my mind to get away from shit, I climb the mountain above Alberton, scramble up to it—the meadow that sits atop those sheer cliffs overlooking the Clark Fork River. Only game trails lead there—each approach … Continue reading →

The hedge pods, lime green, hang in clusters like beans six to twelve feet above ground. Spindly shoots swoop-up off gnarled, woody stocks thick as my forearms. Insects, unseen, buzz-ring in my ears unperturbed by the lonely hound barking nonstop, … Continue reading →

I walk this rutted alley from The Club to Skeet’s Cafe with my son, dogging my grandpa’s hill-climbing heel, my old man’s voice in my head talking about my long dead punch-happy uncle whose clothes I still wear.   I … Continue reading →

at the crossroads again begging the bosses for work, some way to make it, easily,   a monthly grub-steak, a few bucks in exchange for me, my aging-marketable abilities,   whatever they may be, since I need money, shelter, time, … Continue reading →

this is it, that sweet (enough) amerikan dream of disability, social security, unemployment, or the lottery, some desperate way to stop punching a clock, give you a chance to stand outside under the stars, collect your thoughts, observe, come to … Continue reading →

He begged, pleaded to the packed “L” train for anything anyone could give to help him buy the antibiotics he needed for an infected leg he pulled up his pants to reveal, but no one looked at him or the … Continue reading →

That frosty November day, Tom stood at the edge of the grave we’d dug the night before. The preacher, stern, Bible in hand, prayed God have mercy on Potter’s soul. Guilty as Potter of too much fun, the rest of … Continue reading →

Available from Drumlummon  Institute, Helena, MT

The Old Man smiled at the precocious three year old serving him a beer in the backyard gathering after the funeral. She worked the group like a skilled barmaid, knew her cans and brands, remembering faces and orders without a … Continue reading →