I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
"Midway in our life's journey, I went astray/from the straight road and woke to find myself alone in a dark wood" They congratulated me for my sparkling teaching evaluations
By D. J. Reddall6 months ago in Poets
Shameful joy derived From the vice and folly of Strangers on a screen
There are word limits Where I work, and where I play When I encounter them, they inspire a range of responses I am generally outraged that I must obey them
All literature Is written for everyone And no one, at once ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your love does not last, though I wish it would The flashing heat of your smile quickly fades Your saucy sashay through a moonlit wood
I did the right thing. You would have done the same, I expect. You will try to tell yourself that it would have gone differently for you.
By D. J. Reddall6 months ago in Horror
Some thieves are so quick They camouflage robberies As creative acts
A: “You can write whatever you like. It’s just fiction.” B: “I’m not sure that’s true, actually. I mean, it is certainly fiction, but I’m not sure how freely I can write it.”
By D. J. Reddall6 months ago in Fiction
Try to understand: From the point of view of light Time has never been
There is a dark rumor on the market That names this as the last summer we'll see The conspiracies have formed a matched set
Becoming yourself Is much more valuable Than their approval
Make America Grate again, on all of our Poor nervous systems
