This state of beauty. What is so confusing about it? Why does he push it away? Why not just play at it? I told him not to hesitate. He didn’t listen. He’s extracting himself from all the best scenes. Nothing great is possible now. Master horror illustrator Enrique Breccia and his son, extraordinary colorist, Martin. Descendants of the famous, Argentinean Breccia art clan and the visualists behind the recent incarnation of Swamp Thing. I don’t know who the drunk asshole … →

In tune with the skin of magic, She forfeits youth to a larger song. This morning she meditated along the coast, Her tender thoughtfulness aimed toward the ocean, Praying for passion while watched closely By drug assuaged fantasies of rape. Walking home, Chilled by gloom despite the hot Summer December day, A handsome grin introduced himself. “Your hands are so cold,” she said, Reluctantly shaking his paw. They orbit her, Soiled, enthusiastic, hip, hearty, reckless, dashing; Sample her supply of … →

I’m trying to climb out of this deadline hole on the Richard Corben script for Swamp Thing #20, but I’ve felt like shit all day and mostly slept. Now I have a strong and sudden urge to start posting to this site. Procrastination is the writer’s worst enemy. It doesn’t help lube up the old creative machine that Corben is a mad genius and a legend either, in fact, it makes getting to the task of writing a script for … →