Use your Duchamp pen
How can the bathroom wall be less than art? Bring your Duchamp pen, and make the paleness of its tiles a tale of more beyond what bullies did. Have you […]
How can the bathroom wall be less than art? Bring your Duchamp pen, and make the paleness of its tiles a tale of more beyond what bullies did. Have you […]
“Ten dollars, not a cent more”, Joe said leaning backwards in his swivel chair; his big belly undulating as he ogled the young woman. She shook her head while reaching […]
Is your sorrow built from bricks and mortar? Does it reach towards the sky with pinnacles and turrets? Do you keep it safe behind a moat and drawbridge? Is your […]
It’s more my habit than your dream; in how your shadow dances with a whitewashed me. We used to come here once it’s where I first got drunk it’s where […]
The previous day we had hardly left the cabin. Ceaselessly the rain had beaten roof and windows, clouds had licked the soil while gusts of wind had shaken walls and […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis