Regenerations 9/25/16

I’ll be one of the performers in REGENERATIONS at 118 Elliott Street, Brattleboro VT on September 25 at 2 PM.

This is a performance of music, dance, art and poetry regarding the closing of the Vermont Yankee nuclear plant.

Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

“Regenerations” performed 4/29/16

On April 29,2016 I had the pleasure of participating in a performance at the Vermont Studio Center in Johnson, Vermont.  Conceived by Megan Buchanan, this was a mixture of music, dance, art and poetry regarding the closing of the Vermont Yankee Nuclear Plant and its ramifications for the Connecticut River.  It is expected that the piece will be performed again this coming summer in Brattleboro, Vermont.

Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

My predictions for 2016



Despoilers of the army of the dead,

restrain your greed, lest fall upon your head

the wrath of Saturn and the ire of Mars.

In humid borders near the realm of jars,

below the dusky earth, there hides a scroll

to sooth a fever and revive a troll.

Flowers are mingled in the prickly thorn.

The egg must perish ere the chick is born.

Awaken mica ledges! Heed my meme!

Throw out the rascal and the luscious theme!

A plague in Tripoli, a drought in Kazan,

a melancholy passage for the answer man,

an alien collective and a luncheon,

acrobatic failures and a truncheon:

the more they’re cooked the darker they will get.

The man from Tana wins a hefty bet.

The valve lies open; gas goes up the tube.

Can scientists refute the scoffing rube?

Historic implements that make one proud,

a casement, and a cargo disallowed.

A surfeit of rich food assuaged by tea.

The principles are four; the means are three.

Who draws a magic circle to repel

discordant magnates with dour personnel?

Blazing diamonds, yet she cuts the cord.

An ignoramus strikes the hollow gourd.

An old mustachio by poison dies.

The lyre can now be heard across the skies.

The workers thumb their nose at paltry yields

while carp disport themselves in flooded fields.

Find patagium on a buttercup!

Men who see it, rarely pick it up.

The sands of Mali, shunned by migrant birds,

become a trap too horrible for words.

Convenience trumps the ancient ways of life.

An irate husband searches for his wife.

Who knows what remnant of the golden hoard

lies in between the cape and shining ford?

His head is large; his forehead small and round.

The eagle flies; the toad digs in the ground.

The she-wolf hides an unsuspected light.

Rewards are vast, but no one gets it right.

The German foreign office is appalled.

All funding for the institute is stalled.

The finest bay in Europe has a dock

without a door where anyone might knock.

What have I seen? And where do I reside?

600 angels and a theater guide.

Where reason and propriety combine,

one hears a booming Amazonian mine.

The Chinese meddler tries to muddle through.

There should be twelve, but one will have to do.

The cactus cat receives a lunar blessing.

The wounded ram still keeps old hunters guessing.

Where people turn away from sophistry,

their withered trunk becomes a verdant tree.

The tiger women beat on gongs and drums.

Across the lake the sacred message thrums.

Stand by with ensign, uniform and arms.

We’ll meet again in crafty mountain farms.

When rock appears once more, we will return,

where squirrels frisk above the thriving fern.

Now floods have dried, and earthquakes lie at rest.

The year is done for pundits to digest.


Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Springfield Steampunk Festival 9/12/15

Jen Eifrig and I will be presenting “Victorian Technology and the Steampunk Vision” at the Springfield VT Steampunk Festival on September 12, 2015 at 3 PM.  We will also be part of the featured readers at 4 PM.  Don’t miss it.Springfield_Steampunk_Festival[1]

Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Predictions for 2015



Proserpina with flames bestows a boon

on strangers at the dock.  A catchy tune

with readiness of wit upholds a land

that neither men nor cattle understand.

Who wields a truncheon in his bloody fist?

The copper dolls implore Par Lagerkvist.

Within the bony earth, the lowly mole

soaks up the moisture from the Southern Pole.

Fountains dance!  The healing springs rejoice!

The helmet-wearing knave has little choice

but still deceives and counterfeits his plots

until he meets a barking dog with spots.

From Venus take your ambergris and musk.

From Jupiter eschew the empty husk.

A noble city on a fertile plain:

will no one save the prisoner from pain?

Speculation and conjecture fight

to solve the riddle of the riddler’s might.

By six o’clock the time has come and gone

to see a milk-white crow or jet-black swan.

A crystal mountain views an ancient grudge

distilled in cryptic jars.  No man can budge

the unexpected gift the sea retrieves.

And not on any map, the pack rat grieves.

Behold a wonderland obsessed with fear!

Behold a prince who cannot hold his beer!

Within the emerald vaults of holy Inde

there hides a fallen man whose hair has thinned.

His nose is like a lobster boiled bright red

and many are the sins laid on his head.

Tears of pity wash a logging truck.

Entrenched and vested interests run amok.

A chiliastic moment in the shire.

A shooting star betokens wild desire.

An empty concord, hence peacekeepers fail.

The old bull moose is hounded into jail.

A father never heard from reappears.

Heroic figures hawk craft local beers.

The lengthy struggle postulates a clue.

If one resists it, does his face turn blue?

Kenya cries out for justice under law.

The Roman magnate feeds his greedy maw.

The penitent sees light alone, upstairs.

Corrupt commands are scorched with many cares.

Go hunt the winter walrus with the bow!

Not once but twice, the common people know.

The natives in the forest tree the bears.

A colony of pilgrims climbs the stairs.

The watchword lingers:  thirty four is best.

Below the rocky wall the plan will vest.

A case of sinusitis in Japan

will bring discomfort to the inner man.

She has more dreams of wonder in her bag

than one would think for such a shriveled hag.

Yon ghostly wraith reveals a solemn code.

A rising tide obscures the mother lode.

Explorers find the passage for themselves.

Inclement winds bring tidings of the elves.

These are my visions for 2015.

Let fools and sages ponder what I mean.



Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Brattleboro Literary Festival

As part of the Brattleboro Literary Festival, local writers who are active in Write Action will read from their recent books.  On October 4 at 12 noon I will be reading from my new poetry book, Roving Enchantments, along with other poems.  The event is free and open to the public.  Please join us at the River Garden downtown in the center of Brattleboro, near the corner of Main Street and High Street.

Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Bewildering Stories

My short story, “The Great Carb Uncle” is now available online at .

Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Roving Enchantments

My poetry collection, Roving Enchantments, is available in paperback from as of May 24, 2014.    Here is a link:

Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Reading at Brattleboro library 1/15/14

Averting Disaster — Fiction Saves the Day!

I’ll be one of three writers reading at the Brattleboro Vermont Library at 7 PM, January 15, 2014.

Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

A Turn of the Wheel

You can read two of my fantasy short stories in a new collection from Cogwheel Press.

“A haunted Ferris wheel…enchanted dice…the accidental end of the world…a doomed wartime love affair…the last tree on Earth…  Five authors conjure imaginative tales to tickle your fancy and haunt your dreams.  The fifteen stories in this collection will amuse, challenge, frighten and always surprise.”

Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment