Tag Archives: Poems-For-All

Rest easy, Robert Hansen.

I was saddened this morning to learn of a terrible loss to the independent literature community.  Poet and publisher Robert Hansen passed away from a pulmonary embolism in November.

I first worked with Robert in 2017, when he was kind enough to print some of my poems and microfiction in mini-book format with Poems-for-All.  (Robert’s unique matchbook-sized mini-books published short literature in a way that allowed writers to “scatter them like seeds,” sharing their work with friends and strangers alike.  He was a truly gifted graphic designer as well, and the covers he created were always perfect.)

Robert was a man with whom it was always a pleasure to interact.  He was a sublimely gracious person who was always generous with his time, and he took obvious pleasure in encouraging and supporting creative people.

His loss is a great one to the writers who were lucky enough to work with him.  I can only imagine it is immeasurably more so to the people who knew him best.



Poems-for-All publishes two Mini-books of my haiku!

Well, this is a nice way to end the year; I’m thrilled to see Poems-for-All publish two Mini-books of my haiku!  

The first is entitled Blood Moon & Other Haiku; it also includes “Autumn Leaves Haiku” and “Blue Bloom Haiku.”  The second Mini-book is entitled Sullen Robin & Other Haiku; it also includes “Nihilist Night Haiku,” “Fawning Haiku” and “Weeping Willow Haiku.”)

Poems-for-All is a unique publisher that produces poetry Mini-books and then distributes them for free in variety of public places.  The goal is to make poems “scattered like seeds” so they can reach and surprise new readers – and maybe even engender new lovers of poetry.  All of the Mini-books feature artwork by the publisher, Robert Hansen.  (Poems-for-All also publishes micro-fiction this way from time to time.)

I’m truly honored to have my work selected.  Thanks, Robert!





The Drabble features my 100-word horror story, “There in the Bags!”

I am honored today to see my 100-word horror story, “There in the Bags,” published by The Drabble!

You can find it at the link below:

There in the Bags

“There in the Bags” was first published by Poems-for-All in 2017.



A tiny “Tarzan” treatise.

More cool stuff from Robert Hansen and Poems-For-All — this is actually a 40-page essay entitled “Tarzan: the First 100 Years,” complete with vintage illustrations.  The mini-book was authored by David Lemmo and Rachael Wenban, and is based on their full-length book of the same name.

What you see below is the same size as a matchbook, people.  It’s amazing what you can do with that modest amount of space.

It’s also fun stuff. I just learned that Edgar Rice Burroughs’ iconic character is considered the first “superhero” of the 20th Century when he originally appeared in 1912.  (And that makes sense, if you think about it.)  These mini-books can easily fit in your pocket — you can carry them and read them anywhere.




Guerrilla poetry at Tenleytown, Washington, D.C.

This is Tenleytown, in Washington, D.C.’s Northwest, just a couple of blocks from a campus of American University — where I almost went to school, instead of Mary Washington College in Virginia.  I even (somewhat hilariously) received “honors admission” there.  (I was never actually a true “honor student,” even in high school, because my grades in math and science were fair at best — and anyone who knew me at age 18 could tell you that I was not exactly the brightest bulb in the socket.)

I remember being pretty excited as a high school senior at that admission letter.  American U. was my first choice; I was only seduced away to small-town Virginia by a generous financial aid package from the good people at Mary Washington.  (Yes, young people, Fredericksburg was indeed a small town in 1990, even if it now looks like downtown frikkin’ Fairfax.)

It was freaky sipping coffee in Tenleytown and pondering some other parallel-universe me who lived and studied and partied there as a kid.  (Where would I have bought my comic books?)  Most people don’t think about string theory when they travel, but I am both a science fiction fan and a really weird guy with a lot of time on his hands.  (Where is that other Eric right now?  Is he married?  Is he writing?  Is he equally irritated by Star Wars obsessives, the religious right, Orwellian language, people who push “healthy snacks,” the dumbing down of America, “fun-sized” candy, and the gradual decline of “The Walking Dead?”)

Anyway, Tenleytown a pleasant neighborhood with a brisk, college-town vibe to it.  DC consistently surprises me by how friendly its people can be.

I left some poetry mini-books beside some news-stands on Albemarle Street, a cross-street with Wisconsin Avenue.  The stands alternately inform readers in Greek, Spanish, Chinese and English about how DC’s most deplorable resident has most recently embarrassed our country.  (I admire the Spanish-language papers’ predictable special antipathy for the president.)  No matter how sad the news is, this town will not let you hide behind a language barrier.

Am I nuts, or does that Best Buy look like it was designed with the Watergate in mind?  I keep wondering if that is someone’s idea of an obscure joke.









Guerrilla poetry at Farragut Square, Washington, D.C.

June 2018.  This is the only part of Washington, D.C. that can truly remind me of New York City.  (The diverse array of “food trucks” help quite a bit.)  The people there, however, seem far more likely to make eye contact and begin a conversation.  (I briefly chatted with a nice photographer who took a couple of poetry mini-books home with her.)

I’m proud of that last shot you see of pigeons alighting the park’s namesake — even if it is a little fuzzy and even if I only snapped it by chance.  David G. Farragut was a Southerner who nevertheless served heroically as an admiral in the Union navy during the Civil War.  He coined the famous phrase, “Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!”  Maybe I’m only demonstrating my ignorance here, but I didn’t even realize that torpedoes were really a thing during the Civil War, even after seeing the C.S.S. Hunley at Charleston, South Carolina as a kid.
















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