I studied English at Virginia Commonwealth University. Taking part in the underground press movement, I edited and published the literary zine, The Crisp Fabric. My work has appeared in The Commonwealth Times, The Sirens Call, and countless zines. There is an e-book of my essays called Evelyn Avenue and Elsewhere that focuses on the time I spent living in Nashville.
This chapbook is a purge of pieces I’ve written throughout the years. Part I focuses on the things that happened during the time I spent in Nashville, Tennessee (1996 – 2001). Part II is a hodgepodge of social commentary and personal essays I’ve written, mostly in Virginia.
This e-book is not for children. There is some strong profanity and an explicit scene.
I have been published in the August 2019 issue of The Sirens Call, page 69. The poem, “Moses Container,” was written in the wake of the Heaven’s Gate suicides. It was the time of the three-tailed comet, the time when the internet was just starting to get noticed. (Using the read aloud feature works particularly well.)
I took all of the photographs on the main page of this site.
Here are some friends and family whose help along the way has been invaluable:
Ann Koi • We exchanged zines long before we met. She came to visit for a few days. There wasn’t any funny business, we just hung out…mostly in silence.
Jim Shelley • Jim is a pioneer of the DIY movement. He’s a legend in the local scene. I have every cassette he gave me, even though I no longer own a tape deck.
Eric Bennett • We are on compatible wavelengths. We’ve conceived many great projects that will never come to fruition. He’s my go-to guy for graphic design.
Jhon Ackerman • Cinder Harvest was mastered at the Recording Zone. It’s a high-tech, custom-designed, fully functional recording studio. Jhon is a cordial, honest man.
Stephen Brandt • He could draw a perfect R2-D2. He made an anti-smoking ad that was shown in theaters. Now, he designs nicely illustrated decks of playing cards.
Cinder Harvest • My Final Musical Journey
these fourteen songs serve as a capstone, a swan song,
a requiem for the rock star fantasy of many, many years ago