ibis-headed scribe, coughing
wind farm
homestead my blind spot
the future, spangled with ashes
do the math


I quit sending out for publication after a long stretch of not even getting my manuscripts back. I guess they just couldn't throw it in the wastebasket fast enough. Now you may say, "Porridge, that's being a tad paranoid." But i say: seven or eight times in a row, without apparent explanation, is a climate.


Moon Radif Challenge. (The next is "sugar".)


A Tour of Tycho Crater. (Don't miss the earthrise & earthset animations!)


"...they're not even waiting for November to start firing up the paranoid-nutcase troops with recycled zombie smears..."