The poems of Night Owls & Early Birds float through glimpses of people caught in public late at night or early in the morning, along with snatches of their conversation – the quiet and often lonely hours of the darkest shadows.

They smell of smoke and burnt coffee.


Night Owls 1

For these poems and more, visit Thistle/Flinch editions.



Sometimes Night Owls & Early Birds show up on the same shift. Not everyone, after all, works the standard 9-to-5 weekday.

Police, firefighters, hospital nurses and doctors, paramedics, retailers and restaurant staff, truckers, airline personnel, railroad crews, actors and musicians – the list continues.

As I newspaper editor working nights and weekends, I could spot them all, even when they seemed to be playing hooky in midday.

These poems arise in that awareness.


For these poems and more, visit Thistle/Flinch editions.


As I’ve plunged into my biggest novel (on top of my earlier theological investigations recently published as Religion Turned Upside Down), I’ve become acutely aware of how much the eastern and western halves of the Mediterranean world differed in the days of the Roman Empire. For one thing, the division of Christianity into Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy was in process from the earliest days, rather than in the formal schism of 1054, and much of the subtlety of Greek thought never translated into Latin.

Mediterraneo, my newest collection of poems, moves through these waters.

This has me recalling the fact that the great Italian art form of opera was invented as an attempt to recreate the sung qualities of ancient Greek drama.

Let’s see what else we dig up.


For these poems and more, visit Thistle/Flinch editions.


The exercise of writing about what I’d like to know, rather than following the dictum of writing about what you know, mapped my mind into the sands of northern Africa. The region was little known, even before the social uprisings that captured headlines after I’d finished my first draft of the collection.

The Mediterranean Sea, after all, runs along Morocco, Libya, and Tunisia as well as Spain, the French Riviera, Italy, and Greece, even before Turkey, Lebanon, Israel, and Egypt.

It’s a widely varied geography encompassing greatly different cultures, even before the ancient histories are added.

The poems of Mediterraneo are unlike any I’ve done before. See why.


Mediterraneo 1

For these poems and more, visit Thistle/Flinch editions.