This poem struggles in the middle of the night, wrestling with my 61st birthday and sense of failure. The poem begins:
“You want to sleep—but across the tundra,
or perhaps desert hard scrabble. The time
change lags behind and no one wants to
fund you, not even you.”
Under the Guise of “Religious Freedom” As a child, my family used to drive from the Chicago suburbs to the Philadelphia area once or twice a year. In the winter, we would start out in the evening, after my father came home from his last day of teaching before winter […]
This one feels a bit clunky to me, but perhaps that’s because the end of Flash Fiction Month fast approaches, and I’m worn out. I’ve written a lot this month—thank you to those who have read my forays into a world resembling fiction and stayed with me. Thank […]
Nothing Remembers
by Michael Dickel
At Indie Booksotres
The Palm Reading after The Toad's Garden
by Michael Dickel
At Indie Bookstores
War Surrounds Us
by Michael Dickel
At Independent Bookstores
Midwest / Mid-East
by Michael Dickel
At Indie Bookstores
Meta/ Phor(e) /Play 