April writing brought a flowering word count, but the biggest win came from nailing down just a genre for RESIDUE OF AN ESPECIALLY POOR VINTAGE...

For Day 100 of 2025, I have some updates on what I’ve been up to so far this year. Some news is poetic, and some is literary, with a bit of multimedia tech stuff to tie it all together.

You probably noticed that I stopped sending poems out as daily newsletters a while ago because I didn't want anyone to feel that I was spamming them with poetry, although there are worse things to be spammed with. As of today, through two solid months of 2025, I haven't missed a day of "More Tomorrow!"

Five more poems at a time to conserve my sanity. It's going to be a long year.

A conference, a family event, and a couple of travel days can't stop the daily practice of creativity. Sharing, sometimes, will need to work on a delay. Or maybe this periodic release is actually an improvement? Let me know!

I'm still tinkering with today's poem while trying to avoid being too overtly political, but I feel entitled to take a few pot-shots at politicians because sometimes the name on the ballot is my own.

The Minotaur myth is a depressing tale of intolerance and betrayal when told from the monster's point of view, but it may encode an even greater tragedy.

"The Sound of Silence" is one of my favorite songs. But real silence? There's no such thing.

In the Posthomerica, Quintus of Smyrna described the Greek army at Troy as a bunch of snowflakes in the sense of being uncountable and deadly.

What's more amazing than the endless potential of dust? Everything in our world was once a cloud of dust in the cosmic wind.