Trick or Poem by JM Scott FREE in all Kindle Markets Through November 19, 2018

Hey all, Trick or Poem is FREE in all Kindle markets through November 19, 2018. This chapbook contains 31 Halloween and/or horror-themed poems in a variety of styles, including poetry collages, pictograph/emoji poems, linked haiku, free verse and more.

And don't forget some of your favorite horror creatures make an appearance: witches and blood magic, vampires and wendigos.

If you grab a copy, could you leave a review?

Enjoy this free sample.

Jet Star Jockey by JM Scott Free in all Kindle Markets Through Nov. 6 2018

Hey all, Jet Star Jockey is free in all Kindle markets through November 6, 2018.

This book is already two years old. It was such a fun poetry project. I am thinking of a new project for this coming year.



Enjoy this free sample from the book.

Into the Garden by JM Scott Free in all Kindle Markets Through November 1, 2018

Hey all, Into the Garden is FREE in all Kindle markets through November 1, 2018. This book contains more than 45 acrostic poems inspired by things found in a garden.

Here is a sample:

Wednesday Morning

It's funny, I wrote blog post on the to-do list and then I open up Blogger and all of sudden I have no idea what to write. There's plenty to write. So let's do a roundup

Yesterday, I finished reading The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. This is one of my favorite novels with The Great Gatsby and Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. I had to read it for my gender and literature class. There is something quite timely about this quote, "We lived, as usual, by ignoring. Ignoring isn't the same as ignorance, you have to work at it."

I don't normally buy into conspiracy theories but a caravan of people is coming from Honduras or some other place well below Mexico and they are going to cross into the US. Well if they all make it here. I am just wondering if there is something more going on. Something more we don't know. As if someone or a bunch of someones organized this. I get their living conditions are shit, but I really feel like there is something more to the story.


I love fall but this fall is lacking all that splendor. I also love the wind of fall. How it blows the leaves around the road and the snapping chill in the air.

Well that should be enough for one night. I am off to make a poem for Pinterest. Look at me being all productive.

Till next time...

Cigarettes and Caterpillars

Today is Tuesday. The neighborhood decided to mow the grass, but not me. I will mow it tomorrow to run the gas out,  so then I scrape the bottom.  I mow over the scant leaves just to watch them shoot out the side. The trees are already bare in the backyard. So much for leaf changing.

I watched black caterpillars undulate over the worn blacktop. Where they are going? Who knows? Will they even make it to spring? I've seen more caterpillar this October then I did all spring.

Yesterday, I went to the Seneca reservation in New York to buy cigarettes. 

So there is progress being made in my writing. But most days, I have no idea what's going and everything around slips through my fingers like oil. The days and nights are slick sometimes time moves too quick. But, I say that all time. 

Sometimes, I love the silence. Most times, I love the silence. But then even in silence one can go crazy. So I find chaos in people and remember my imagined craziness is better company than most people other there.

Mega Millions is creeping closer to a billion dollars. What does that even look like? Sure, I would love to win the lottery like others. I wonder how I would change. I'd like to say that I would be the same as I always was. But I highly doubt that. I wonder if I could actualize my writing by having a room of my own and my own money.

I think the universe is pushing me on a path, sometimes I want to do something else. But here I am always going to the same place I was two years ago. There is a feeling of one day, I am going to wake up and just burst out of the shell I am in.

Well, there you go its a caterpillar kind of day with falling leaves and a chilly wind. I smell snowflakes growing in mountain clouds.

The Shit I Think About

The other day while scrolling through Facebook, it seemed like a bunch of different bunch of pages posted an article about we don't have much longer until we reach the point of no return when it comes to global warming. I know one thing, I am still mowing the grass and the mosquitos are still biting,  and I live in Pennsylvania and it is already the second week of October.  I also know when I was a small kid in the 80's there was a lot more snow on the ground around Christmas. I also know when I first moved to my hamlet in the mountains, there was a lot more snow in the winter. Something is changing. Sure, I believe we are contributing to climate change at a faster rate. But I feel overwhelmed like recycling won't make much of a difference anymore.

I am in an apocalypse kick. I often think about what if war came to the US. Mexico has a new president. What better way to build your economy then by war? It worked for the US. And as a country, we're an arrogant bunch. Who's to say Mexico isn't planning to invade the border? Would they have a chance? Who knows. Maybe they should.

I read an article about Scott Wagner, the GOP candidate for governor. He went on rant finishing with telling Wolf to wear a mask because he is going to smash his face in with golf spikes. Of course, he meant it metaphorically. Such a delightful metaphor. Sure, he's got his freedom of speech. But, I guess I expect a certain kind of behavior with an elected official. What f  he was a democrat man? A Democrat woman? The red snowflakes would be crying their tears all over the internet. Of course, if it was a woman, she would be ragging or hysterical. But a man does it, then cool. He's fucking awesome. When are we the people going to demand public officials act like adults not big boys in big boy pants?

This is the shit I think about it when it finally feels like fall and ready for anarchy.

Till next time...

The Cat's Surprise

It’s been raining for days and finally, the sun wedged between the clouds. Donovan goes out.

As I wash dishes and make dinner, Donavan comes in with something squirming and screaming.

Donovan drops it. It’s a tiny human, only about six inches high. He has stubble and a rigid abdomen.

I pick him and look at him.

“Please let me go,” he says.

I carry him in my hand, grab an old hamster ball and toss him inside.

Oh,
the fun I will have with him. He will have to earn his freedom.

I wonder if they are more mini-men.