Category Archives: Portland Writing

Culture Versus Cult-ture

[This is a poem I wrote] At Peace with Sin Thank the dead parrot for not speaking, the three-legged dog for not complaining, the mentally challenged child for not wandering into the highway, the serial killer for going next door. … Continue reading

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An Architect’s Dream (excerpt)

Cut to a park bench. Early afternoon, December, the oak branches are bare and gnarled as ancient fingers and the sky is the color of mummy skin. Our hero is sitting on the weathered wooden bench, watching pigeons scrounge for … Continue reading

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All music has silences

          When I listen In a quiet room, my head is full of noise. I see a second version of myself, a third, a fourth, and the mirrored walls accommodate the rest of me. I see too much of myself, … Continue reading

Posted in Portland Writing, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , | 3 Comments