Missing Child

where has that childish abandon flown to what corner has it tucked itself within whose arrogant ignorance mighty walls erected and fell beneath the pen faceless omnipotence god of fact fiction whose word scarred paper hearts bleeding ink upon the page in whose eye every image was wonder not closed to mysteries ears closed to…

Thank You Everyone!

I’d like to take a moment to show appreciation for everyone who took time to view my blog and follow me this past year. This has been a prolific period for Piecework Prose and it has seen exponential growth in that time. Two books were self-published (Calling Forth, In the Midst of Crisis) with an…

Word Salad

hey read that draft you sent me have to say couldn’t hear your voice – i looked and looked but i couldn’t find you on the page – there were so many people shouting at me you were inaudible neath the cacophony – took me a while to chew through the word salad even with…

Impotent and Inadequate

The overwhelming pressure to perform, to impress with rigid self-confidence and vigor. Such oppressive expectations take their toll, disrupting what ordinarily would occur without much coaxing. Flirting with strange images, setting the mood with music and a stiff drink to ease the nerves. All is in place for a fruitful coupling, yet the flow is…