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Deerhead Puppets in the Forest
What began as a lyric essay on purpose, lifemaking, communication, mindfulness and more, headed south, came unhinged and ended up in a moat with a damp man in the rubble. I consider this one of best, most personal, things I have written. Thank you for reading.
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Lung's Dusk
Thank you to Shawn Misener for selecting this piece for publication at his Clutching at Straws site. He has an intense collection of “unusual poetry” published there and I’m honored to be a part of it. This one skirts the edge of being vulgar, but perhaps, ends up being slightly disgusting instead. Maybe there is not much of a difference. Is it a matter of perception? One’s tastes? I think so, but could be wrong. Often am. At any rate, it is certainly about mutation and growth and the experience of a bizarre transfiguration. It’s short. Please read it. Thank you.
Shredded Maps ///
Jamie Grefe: fiction, poetry, essays
