1,275 miles later, and here we are. Packing my old Sony point and shoot set to Black and White, I captured some of the surreal, and here are some of the sum.










1,275 miles later, and here we are. Packing my old Sony point and shoot set to Black and White, I captured some of the surreal, and here are some of the sum.










From Copper Canyon Press, Akwaeke Emezi’s poetry collection Content Warning: Everything is well worth your time. See why via my review at North of Oxford.
I am very pleased to announce my reading of Haibun de la Serna, the latest release from Paul E. Nelson and an incredible addition to his canon (one that, it is astounding to say, has been over a decade in the making).








Another show, another covert audio recording.









The first time I heard this song, I was blown away. I’ve kept it in mind to do a music video for it for months now, and here it is at 60fps.
A minimalist video with some not-so-minimalist auditory recording antics.
I had the opportunity to see The Microphones play at the Capitol Theater in Olympia this past Sunday. I managed to capture the recording in full and it’s available here:
The latest poetry collection by John Keene, and the first one I’ve ever read, is now out via the Song Cave, and I wrote extensively about it over at North of Oxford.
Recorded at Kezira Cafe in Columbia City, Seattle on February 25, 2022. Featuring D’Vonne Lewis, Farko Dosumov, and Jim O’Halloran. With a special poetry reading by Paul Nelson for his book release of Haibun de la Serna.
The full audio in one long YouTube video:
Or the full video and audio in one long YouTube video:
Note that with the latter, I left the auto refocus setting turned on, making for a far-from ideal viewing experience. More opportunities to learn!



The latest publication from Stephen Collis, A History of the Theories of Rain, continues the poet’s commitment to a climate poetics capable of global and personal simultaneously. “each mouth a poem / we did not taste / shouting venom at the state / of the world” the poet writes mid-way through the volume (27). When Collis isn’t following a stream-of-consciousness mode that captures the distinct raw energy of observation, he’s rigidly and powerfully constructing form-intensive lyrics that demand to be reread for maximum effect. One minimalist example found in the book’s second section, “Sketch of a Poem I Will Not Have Written,” reads: “How to dwell (and I mean this / in a world that / shaped as it is by hate and blindness / (love and / blindness / runs right over the rim?” (35).
The works here cover a lot of time and space, but as with his former books, Collis’s eyes and ears are dedicated to the finite of the contemporary, capturing what is ever fleeting; and also, Collis foils news and events with the ongoing emotional transformations that result, including the distinct laments and sorrows faced by decaying ecologies. While the BC-based poet may feel distinctly Canadian in tone and pacing, his poetry here continues to carry his unique and uniquely universal voice, combining fresh language with lyrical comfort of decades-past.
The book contains a variety of language across its four sections, but my favorite section, which resonated with me the most, was the final, which the book is named after. “A History of the Theories of Rain” reminded me of my own book, Of Spray and Mist, and so much more. Obviously, this has to do with its centralization of water: “Water is temporary importance / celestial signal of life precipitate on fluid surface” (83). But it is also the brutal truth at its own liquid core that resonates with me. The section is filled with powerful phrases that left me reeling in my seat: “I have dreamed of these / little worlds / droplets / the pain of trying / to change everything” (93). The book really is one that reflects upon and inspires action throughout observation. I can’t recommend it enough.