I’ve been writing since childhood, off and on. In high school, a certain teacher introduced me to the work of Charles Simic, and for a while, I practiced imitation. Through that, I think I found my voice.

Monotonic toxic release
Shepard tones, chilling bones
Forever up a stair increase

Junior high

Not very much of my early work is worth sharing, but replay value is representative of the pre-Simic era.

High school

A series of villanelles, originally published in my school’s paper, “The Wolf Howls”:

I’ve only ever written one haiku.

I occasionally tried sonnet-like constraints, like Kohlberg’s Devil.

And others:

College

A few of these were written for a very specific audience:

And some others:

Later

Writing almost feels like a lost muscle now, but sometimes it still has to happen.

Hermetically sealed soup is an attempt at finding second wind in an airlock.

I wrote First contact for Once is never, a parkour zine produced by my good friends. Between when I first drafted it and finally finished it, lots happened in the world, and I realized I had inadvertently written about at least 3 totally separate things.

First sonnet in at least a decade involves public transit.

One week after being summoned, I am forced to confront the homeopathological case.