Well. Sunday. Hello there. I’m not impressed by your windy posturing outside my window. Storm already or shut the hell up.

Anyway. Poetry continues to be written. I’ve even written a couple formal things — a villanelle (hard!) and a sestina (not as hard!), and I’m done with formal poetry. I really, really hate writing poetry that way. Haiku is about as formal as I care to get. Fiction is lulling. I finished 216, attempted a post apocalyptic short story for Piker Press, rebooted the post apocalyptic story for Piker Press, began a fresh take on Interface and basically am not caring about any of it one way or the other. It goes that way sometimes after I finish something.

Found a new distraction that I’m having a lot of fun with. My journal is here.

And now to find something to distract me from being distracted.