Sam
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Not For Lack of Trying
What can I say to you monsters? Who could I possibly save? I am submerged and anyone that I pull to me will die. Save yourselves? You can’t. You can’t. Can I feel love when all…
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Teaching Wolves
Written 2.22.26 I look out on a dry country of hills, where between the gaps I see, a hundred miles away, the snowy caps of some tall, flat range. I wonder why the snow is kept…
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A Blind Warrior
I am witness to a numb, dull golem who acts without understanding. This companion of my memories is mute to me, his thoughts sit outside of him. He is empty of breath. I press water from…
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Not Before Suffering
I think of my body often, and its miraculous persistence in conducting my existence. I think of of humankind groping for perfection as defined by itself. The farce of justice. The emptiness of empathy to the…
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Teary Eyes Seeking the Sun
6.8.2025 “There is a distance between learning someone’s opinions and burning them alive.” What is my relationship with the lauding or condemnation of queerness? Why celebrate it? Why laud it? I simply am. I seek passivity,…
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Carrying the Flag
5/22/2025 I am suddenly struck with the overwhelming vision of a lifetime reading the scriptures and the thoughts of mystics from all wisdoms, with my love beside me. What a joyful life it would be to…
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God is Called a Rock
5/19/2025 God is called “a rock”. Why is his name not “Rock”? Or “The Rock.”? I kicked a rock into a gutter the other day. Is my God not like a rock? God is called a…
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On Dorian Gray
5/19/2025 This time in my life, which has focused on my youth, aging, life goals, morality, the sensations my freedom might achieve, and sexuality, make for a reflective reading of Dorian Gray, and I admit I…
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On Wildlife Conservation
5/10/2025 I hunt with my friend, and when we discover scat or a pressed bed of tall grass, we will remark aloud “deer sign” to one another. Eventually, when we see a deer, we point at…
animal rights, conservation, deer, father, friendship, hiking, humanity, hunters, hunting, nature, parks, shame, son, stewardship, suicide, wildlife, writing -
Little Transient Creatures
A man stood on the shore of a grand, calm sea, where even the edge of the water did not lap but hung with a curled edge over soft sand. Ahead, the blues and greens softly…
