It’s a bit cold outside for the past couple of days. That might have been on my mind when I wrote these.
Sorry if I’m not profound tonight
Modern Igloos
Fort Madison, Iowa, 24 January 2026
Frost paint windows off white
The cold invades where you’re closest to the outdoors
Only stone, wood, electrified heat sources, and a cup of tea
Hold off the entropy.
You think back to the old cartoons
Inuit chilling both ways in igloos
And being thankful for civilization
Because you know you couldn’t answer the Call of the Wild.
Didn’t want to do another winter poem, so I combined the cold weather with one of my recent obsessions, the ocean. It’s a weird obsession considering I only lived near the ocean for a very short time in my childhood and for most of my life I’ve never lived closer than 850 miles than the nearest part of the ocean (Gulf of Mexico). But maybe living near the Mississippi River sparked something like it with me. Apologies are likely in order for my parents who once had a catamaran for sailing on the the lakes in Iowa but I was not as enthusiastic about it back in those days like I should have been.
I started thinking about the old sailors who make the trip around Cape Horn in southern Chile. I’ve long heard legends about how challenging the trip was. This is me picturing what it might be like.
Cape Horn Days
24 January 2026, Fort Madison, Iowa
On the bridge, morning watch,
Sealed coffee mug fastened in the holder
Protection from the fifty-foot waves
And the blows of the Horn’s gales.
It’s not like it was with the old clipper sailors.
We have a restaurant-level galley and temperature-controlled cabins,
They had a fire pit, iron kettle, swaddled in wool to keep cold and water away.
We have electronic GPS navigation and radar, WiFi and satellite radio,
They had compass and charts if lucky, the stars and waves if they weren’t.
Steel and polymer vessels are far stronger than
Their wooden clipper ancestors.
But they both had to dodge typhoons and icebergs alike.
The Horn looms in the distance through his binoculars
Its waters wild, beautiful, and treacherous.
Now for a quick commercial break, lol.
If You’re Interested in the Poetry You See Here… You Might Want to Check Out Some More…
Since Substack doesn’t have the setup for this (that I’m aware of), I’ve set up something at my WordPress sister site, Liegois Media. I have my own Internet storefront page where you can order my chapbook for $6 per copy. The link is below.
Hope 2026 is going all right, all things considered. Take care everyone.
-30-
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
I had thought I hadn’t been doing this series for too long, but a quick review of past posts indicated I’ve been doing this now for at least two years. It’s wild I’ve been doing this for that long.
In a glance at the file I’ve been using to store this year’s poems, I counted 29 poems I’ve written, both published and unpublished, since the start of the year. Considering I only ever wrote poetry once in a blue moon for nearly all my life, this is a massive increase in productivity.
Hopefully, I can keep this up. I have to say I’ve never put as much attention into my poetry as I have my fiction work, but I do hope putting in the time and work pays off in the end, if not financially then at least artistically.
I’m glad it’s becoming late fall/early winter now. I’ve always felt I did better in colder climates than warmer ones – maybe some heritage from my Wisconsinite parents and grandparents. But I also wonder if it would be everything I’d hope for, so this poem grew out of these thoughts.
It’s getting close to the end of the year and I’m trying to race to reach my word count goal before New Year’s Day 2026. The possibility of me making the deadline can be described as possible but with no more time to lose. However, ever since my journalism days, a tight deadline has always inspired me – as well as this next poem.
Since Substack doesn’t have the setup for this (that I’m aware of), I’ve set up something at my WordPress sister site, Liegois Media. I have my own Internet storefront page where you can order my chapbook for $6 per copy. The link is below.
2026 is coming down the road. I’m wondering what words it will bring along.
-30-
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
Tonight is Poetry Night for me, as I continue my journey as a poet playing around with words and ideas, scrambling both up into what could be called a decent dinner or a very late brunch. We could go with either one.
Before we get into the poetry, however, I have a brief poetry celebration to commemorate.
Last year for the first time, I became a dues-paying member of the Iowa Poetry Association, a small effort on my part to try and take my poetry seriously. For the first time this year, I participated in the IPA’s competitions for their annual anthology, Lyrical Iowa. Although I did not place in any of the competitions I participated in, my poem “Peace of Mind” was selected for publication in the 2025 version of Lyrical Iowa. You can pick up a copy here: this year’s edition was dedicated to Rodney Reeves, a fellow IPA member and a member of the Burlington-area Society of Great River Poets I also belong to.
Now, on with the poetry
I’m glad it’s becoming late fall/early winter now. I’ve always felt I did better in colder climates than warmer ones – maybe some heritage from my Wisconsinite parents and grandparents. But I also wonder if it would be everything I’d hope for, so this poem grew out of these thoughts.
I entertain images of ice-wind gusts over rocky and remote lands
Mountains standing sentinel over a modest hamlet
The stark beauty of winter in twilight.
However, my mind ponders
The cool images warming my overheated soul
And I question if they are mere delusions.
If my dreams became some form of reality
And I arrive at my ideal lands,
Would it merely be a cold hardship rather than one overheated?
I only once lived in a home near the ocean, the modest-sized town of Seabrook, Texas. It was southeast of Houston, on Galveston Bay with Galveston Island a bit further southeast.
I ended up spending most of my life on the banks of the Mississippi River, but I’ve sometimes wondered whether I would have developed something of a similar kinship to the ocean I did to the river. I’ve come to consider that it might be slightly different due to apprehensions I have about very large bodies of water.
I have the type of fear of heights that has no effect on me if I’m at the top floor of a building or flying in a plane1, but leaves me almost paralyzed at the thought of me hanging off the side of a building on a rope or even peeking over the balcony of a tall place. Similarly, I have no fear of crossing an ocean by ship, but I wonder what type of panic I would have if I ducked my face underneath the waves and all I saw was dark blue fathoms and prowling sharks below2.
Since Substack doesn’t have the setup for this (that I’m aware of), I’ve set up something at my WordPress sister site, Liegois Media. I have my own Internet storefront page where you can order my chapbook for $6 per copy. The link is below.
Take care, everyone, and I’ll see you down by the bend in the river, road, or line.
-30-
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
Welcome to a Sunday night edition of Poetry Night, where I produce some original poetry usually inspired by the territory and lands I live in or my day to day experiences and musings. Tonight will be a mix of both of those ideas.
I managed to get out onto the Mississippi River again today, thanks very much to my wife. It was especially lovely in October when you can see the leaves changing and you don’t start sweating five minutes after you step outside like you do in July. This was (hopefully) the first of a few results of the trip.
Drifting
Fort Madison, Iowa, 26 October 2025
Upstream
The boat muscles against the current
Against the Flow
While we huddle as the wind
Whisks our warmth away.
Once we navigate the starboard turn
Between the green can near the Iowa side
And the red cone near the Illinois
The current and the islands protect us from
The worst of the wind
And we go with the flow.
The multicolored leaves shelter the cabins
On the River’s edge
And it feels like home.
I’ve tried to not get too political with my writing in general and especially my poetry, but it feels like there’s more that needs to be said.
Since Substack doesn’t have the setup for this (that I’m aware of), I’ve set up something at my WordPress sister site, Liegois Media. I have my own Internet storefront page where you can order my chapbook for $6 per copy. The link is below.
I hope you’ve had a great weekend. I’ll see you around the bend.
-30-
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
Hello, all who either happened to stumble on to my page or regular subscribers. It’s Poetry Night, where I drop some samples of original poetry for your consumption and consideration. The theme for tonight is… all over the place, to be honest. Let’s see what I whip up tonight.
The first poem tonight is me realizing I’m in a fiction writing rut and trying to get out of it with this poem. It’s only sort of working1.
This is not a poem intended to be aimed at anyone in particular. I think it’s something that might apply to many people who think they might need to engage with certain individuals, some they know very well, some little more than strangers. Sometimes it’s better to keep your distance.
Since Substack doesn’t have the setup for this (that I’m aware of), I’ve set up something at my WordPress sister site, Liegois Media. I have my own Internet storefront page where you can order my chapbook for $6 per copy. The link is below.
Anyway, hope your night is going well. I’m doing all right, trust me. See you around the bend of the road, river, or rail, depending2.
-30-
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
Hi, everyone, subscribers and random readers alike. It’s Poetry Night, the night I drop some brand new selections of verse for your reading pleasure. The use of words and those who use words for a living are the themes of tonight’s offerings.
But first, a quick commercial break 😄.
If You’re Interested in the Poetry You See Here… You Might Want to Check Out Some More…
Since Substack doesn’t have the setup for this (that I’m aware of), I’ve set up something at my WordPress sister site, Liegois Media. I have my own Internet storefront page where you can order my chapbook for $6 per copy. The link is below.
Over the years I’ve spent writing in all forms and genres, there’s always been a balancing act between using mountains of words to paint vivid mental pictures or construct grand arguments and keeping what you write short and to the point. Combining this observation with Miles Davis’ statements about how the notes a musician doesn’t play have more significance than the ones they do play were inspiration for this piece.
Over time in the years I’ve worked and weaved with words
I’ve used ones which were impactful, obscure, theatrical, stylish, and elaborate.
At times they overcrowded my work
Weary football fans packing onto too-small benches for forgotten games and reasons.
But over years I’ve come to learn
The spaces between words
The things left unsaid and unattended for the reader to ponder
Make a meaningful effect.
Earlier this week was the ninth anniversary of The Tragically Hip’s final live show in their hometown of Windsor, Toronto, Canada. The legendary Canadian band was at the end of its final tour after vocalist and primary songwriter Gord Downie announced he had terminal brain cancer. He’d die a year later at just 53 years old.
I had been vaguely aware of the band during its growth into prominence during the early 90’s, but they were always more Canada’s band than other great Canadian musical acts that found cross-border appeal. Unfortunately, I didn’t get into them heavily until just before his death, so I’ve had to spend the time since sifting through three decades worth of fantastic music.
Tonight, I figured a dude who once wrote a song called “Poets” was probably a good subject for one.
Gord Downie
Words to Remember Gord (A Memorial)
Fort Madison, Iowa, 20 August 2025
I remember the sight of you in white
Jaunty white top hat
Knife-edge lean but a grin as wide as the Ontario prairies
Singing for your home and people with a ferocity born
Knowing it was the last time.
Knowing Death was gathering you up, preparing your space,
As you stood tall on the stage.
You sung of death long before it reached you,
But also of love, friendship, loss, home, and life
You were a poet even as you said not to tell you of them
And what I learned from you is
Life has no dress rehearsal
It is now.
Well, hope I gave you some enjoyment tonight. Hope the rest of August goes well for you. Take care, everyone.
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
Hello, all subscribers and anyone happening upon my page this Saturday evening. Tonight is Poetry night once again. This is where I throw out some brand new, never before seen poetry out into the world and see if anyone digs them or not. How about I get started?
If You’re Interested in the Poetry You See Here… You Might Want to Check Out Some More…
Since Substack doesn’t have the setup for this (that I’m aware of), I’ve set up something at my WordPress sister site, Liegois Media. I have my own Internet storefront page where you can order my chapbook for $6 per copy. The link is below.
You may have sensed this if you have followed me1, but I am not a fan of the hot weather. When some of my work colleagues in April were praying for sun and warmth, I was thinking of how July 2024 extended into November of the same year and thought to myself oh, don’t worry, you’ll get it soon enough and get it hard.
Some people want to vacation in Cancun or Florida, I would prefer to go to Iceland or the Faroe and Shetland Islands. Some people want to go on cruises to the Caribbean; I would prefer a tour of the Rhine/Main/Danube rivers or a voyage of the Great Loop2.
With all that being said, if I had to go outside, I’d feel a lot more comfortable in a dense, cool, moist forest with plenty of shade rather than a tropical jungle, beach, desert, or other biome3. This, plus a bevy of mushrooms popping up in my yard4, inspired this poem.
Mushroom Hunt in the Forest
Fort Madison, Iowa, 26 July 2025
Crisp breeze
Wet air
Cloudy days
Now is my time.
Sneaking under the pine and oak canopy
On my own
Burlap bag over my shoulder
Mushroom knife in my true right hand
Well-thumbed mushroom guide in
My left.
I wander around the trunks
In the cool shade
On the lookout for
Cauliflower
Chanterelle
Hawks Wing
Honey Mushroom
Lobster
The Prince
And the Truffles.
I put them in my sack
Converse with nature
And get some satisfaction
That I can be resourceful
As my electric-deficient ancestors were.
To be honest, however, the deepest darkest place I tend to hang out in (if I have one) during the depths of the overheated Iowa summers has been a basement. My childhood home in Muscatine had a great basement where I spent most of my waking moments. It was my lair. In the first three homes I owned, they all had basements but were not quite set up for lounging, so I had to come up with alternative locations. My new home here in Fort Madison has a proper basement, with enough space for not only my home office, but a recliner and love seat, breakfast nook table, a utility room/storage area/work bench, more storage, bath and shower, refrigerator, and microwave. I need to be appreciative of the nice stuff I have. 🙂
Man Cave
Fort Madison, Iowa, 25 July 2025
Back when
Homo Sapiens Sapiens
Was just Homo Sapiens
Before they built castles
Long houses
Daub and wattle huts
And lean-tos
They gathered inside the natural caverns
In their irregular water and wind-carved
Empty spaces
To make them their own.
They liked the solid cool spaces
Sheltered from the elements
Secure from danger
With a dollop of safety.
I live in different times.
My caves are not rounded and irregular
But squared and measured.
My caves are not wet and living
But dry and dead.
However,
It is a good home for me
Not in tune with the natural world
A concrete, steel, and wood sanctuary
For a civilized boy like me.
That’s it for tonight. Hope you all don’t sweat to death the next couple (or few) of months56.
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
Iowa only has maybe two perfect months of weather during the year. I have told my wife I do not wish to live anywhere between North and 40° South latitude. Currently, I live at 40°38’05” North. ↩︎
Honestly, I would love to retire and live somewhere around 45° North or South, which would suggest somewhere in Minnesota, the Upper Peninsula, or Alaska. Or maybe southern Patagonia in Argentina. I like cold places, all right? In my final days, I don’t want to sweat to death, even in our climate change world. ↩︎
Recently, I decided it would be a good idea to have a dedicated post for each of the books I’ve written up to this point. I’ve done one for my first novel, The Holy Fool, my first poetry chapbook, The Flow and the Journey, and my 2023 novel, The Yank Striker. I decided now would be the best time to release a new post for the sequel to The Yank Striker, entitled The Yank Striker’s Journey. Consider this to be your introduction to Journey and your introduction (or reintroduction, as the case might be) to the world of the budding American soccer superstar Daniel John “DJ” Ryan.
The Yank Striker Series
[NOTE: The following is likely to contain spoilers for The Yank Striker, Book 1 in the series. If you are desperate to avoid spoilers at all costs, you might want to stop here. Or, maybe you’d like to check out this article about The Yank Striker and consider getting it for yourself before trying out Book 2. Anyway, consider this your warning.]
It started a few years ago when my decades-long obsession around the sport of soccer got me thinking about setting a story in that world. As have many other fans of the US Men’s National Team, I often wondered what the first American men’s soccer superstar would look like. Unlike many of my fellow fans, I decided to see if I could create one through fiction.
What eventually came about from my perpetual stew of fiction ideas was the character of Daniel John “DJ” Ryan, the son of a college football championship-winning coach from Liberty Rock Park, Texas (somewhere around Dallas, let’s say). He grew up catching the passes of his quarterback brother, Trey, both at home and on their high school football team. DJ sees joining his brother on their father’s team, the Hamilton State University Copperheads, as his best chance at an eventual NFL career, especially since Trey is considered to be a potential Heisman Trophy winner in his sophomore year.
However, DJ also shows talent at soccer, and he has a talent for scoring goals for both his high school team and a local semipro outfit as their striker or center forward, the tip of the spear of a soccer team’s attack. It’s while playing for the former in the state championship tournament that he’s noticed by a scout for an English Premier League team in the East End of London, Donford FC.
He’s soon torn between staying around home and trying for the NFL, or taking a big gamble on himself in the high pressure world of English soccer in an unfamiliar place.
In addition, he’s keeping a secret about his personal life involving his sexual orientation that could be a major complication for him, whatever decision he makes. He considers himself bisexual or pansexual, depending on the mood he is in (DJ’s not good at labels). However, he is not trying to flaunt his orientation because it could be a major complication in either the NFL or world soccer.
He’s also trying to respect the wishes of his mother. She wants to keep quiet the fact she left Junior in part due to her infidelity, but also because she fell in love with her female best friend and business partner, Navy veteran Riley Jordan. This is because Jennifer (DJ’s mother) wishes to keep the peace with her religiously strict parents and not bring undue attention to her ex-husband, whom she still considers a friend.
Big Spoilers Coming: Watch out [YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED]
DJ initially chooses to play on the gridiron alongside his brother and under the coaching of his father at Hamilton State University.
However, he is soon accosted by the university’s athletic director, a closeted gay, who becomes aware of DJ’s orientation and attempts to blackmail him into having a relationship. When DJ admits this to his father, Junior believes him and vows to protect him, but pleads with his son to keep things quiet until after the football season has concluded to avoid any distractions. Instead, DJ outs himself and the athletic director, quits the Copperheads, and accepts the offer to try out with Donford.
The Next Step in the Journey
The Yank Striker’s Journey focuses on what DJ has to face now he is trying to establish himself as a footballer1 in England, a goal filled with numerous pitfalls.
First, there are the ordinary pressures of proving himself in the English Premier League, arguably the most competitive football league in the world. Just eighteen years old, DJ is attempting to grow and improve as a player in a league many take years to adapt to. And he’s attempting to do so at Donford, a modestly successful club compared to most in English football.
On top of this, DJ is attempting to chase success thousands of miles away from his home, away from his lifelong support system of parents, brother, friends, and former romantic companions. He’s having to forge new friendships with teammates, as well as gain their trust and that of Donford manager Barry Blake. And, he’s having to do this as an American in a league where Americans have forged successful careers but never superstar careers.
And finally, he’s having to do this as an openly bisexual athlete in an environment where this is a rarity, where most LGBTQ players in the Premier League or other top European leagues only rarely reveal their orientation, and usually either near the end of their careers or after it. While dealing with the skepticism of fans unsure about LGBTQ players, there are many LGBTQ fans who see in DJ someone to look up to, and he doesn’t want to disappoint them.
For better or worse, however, DJ is not alone in his journey.
Donford has another LGBTQ player on their roster, fellow eighteen-year-old Alexander Roberto De Sousa Dias, better known as Lexx. He was the next great teenaged talent from Brazil, like Pele, Ronalhdino, Neymar Jr., and so many others, but he fell in love with the teenage son of the president of the Brazilian Football Federation and got blackballed from Brazilian football as a result. Donford hopes DJ can be a support to Lexx in addition to an asset on the field.
DJ’s happy to take the responsibility on, because he can use all the friends he can get in England, and he bonds with the young Brazilian as they look to prove themselves in the league and in the tradition-laden and prestigious Football Association (FA) Cup tournament. But as the season goes on, DJ’s emotional ties become increasingly complicated.
How does a soccer or football superstar begin his journey to the top? It happens one step at a time.
Where Can You Get the Book?
Currently, the book is available in paperback. My publisher said it is likely to be available in ebook version at a later date.
You can buy my book on Amazon for $14.95 at this link.
Now, some of you might not be fans of Amazon.com for whatever reason. I understand. In that case, you can purchase the paperback directly from my publishers, Biblio Publishing, at this link.
I’m also making those links available in my profile and in the sidebar of this blog. For any further questions, contact me.
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
Sometimes football and soccer will be used a bit interchangeably to describe the same game both here and in the book. Those are the breaks, as they say. ↩︎
So, the past couple of days I’ve actually not been writing much of anything. I’ve been in kind of a waiting pattern for one of the biggest projects I’ve had going on, something I’ve been talking about for a while on this site.
Since the project I’ve been talking about is set in the world of soccer, my thoughts immediately went to something from that world. There is an Italian football journalist by the name of Fabrizio Romano who specializes in covering football transfers. Whenever he announces a deal is finalized, he uses the phrase “Here we go!”
Well, everyone … Here we go!
Cover art and design by Joe Boardman.
I am delighted to announce that The Yank Striker’s Journey, my third novel and the second book in The Yank Striker series, is now available for purchase in paperback on Amazon. I had hoped to get the book out and online by last month, but the final steps of editing and proofing took slightly longer than I had expected. From now on, I’m going to assume anything having to do with publishing is going to take double the amount of time I originally assume it’s going to take.
Currently, the book will only be out in paperback. At a later (as yet undetermined) date, it should also be out on ebook format. I will let you know when that happens, but that will be some months down the road.
I plan to put together an introductory post for the book such as I did for my other books, including The Yank Striker. That should be coming out very soon – tomorrow, I’m thinking. [SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR The Yank Striker AHEAD.]
To be brief, however, The Yank Striker series follows the exploits of Daniel John “DJ” Ryan, the son of a college football championship-winning coach from Liberty Rock Park, Texas (somewhere around Dallas, let’s say). He grew up catching the passes of his brother, Trey, both at home and on their high school football team. DJ sees joining his brother on their father’s team, the Hamilton State University Copperheads, as his best chance at an eventual NFL career.
However, DJ also shows talent at soccer, and he has a talent for scoring goals for both his high school team and a local semipro outfit. It’s while playing for the former in the state championship tournament that he’s noticed by a scout for an English Premier League team in the East End of London, Donford FC. He’s soon torn between staying around home and trying for the NFL, or taking a big gamble on himself in the high pressure world of English soccer in an unfamiliar place. In addition, he’s keeping a secret about his personal life involving his sexual orientation that could be a major complication for him, whatever decision he makes.
The Yank Striker’s Journey focuses on what DJ has to face now he is trying to establish himself as a footballer in England. He’s dealing with many complications: His development and growth as a player, the intensive demands of Premier League football, the extra scrutiny paid to him as an American and his sexual orientation, al while thousands of miles away from his old home.
What’s Next?
Other than the links I provided here, you can also go to the links for The Yank Striker’s Journey on the sidebar of this Substack and in my author profile. You’ll also find links to my other books there, too.
My stomping ground is Iowa and surrounding areas, so I’m planning on getting my books out to some of the independent bookstores around here. Among the places that currently have my books are:
Bent Oak Books, 619 7th St. Fort Madison.
Burlington By The Book, 301 Jefferson St, Burlington.
Green Point Mercantile, 217 E. 2nd St., Muscatine.
Beaverdale Books, 2629 Beaver Ave. # S1, Des Moines.
Pella Books, 824 Franklin St, Pella.
I’m hoping to add some more names to the list soon.
If any podcasters or bloggers are interested in new fiction, if you are interested in stories based in the world of soccer, or if you are interested in featuring writers from Iowa or the Midwest, I would absolutely be open for a feature or interview. Get in touch here or at jasonliegois@liegois.media.
I’ll keep you in the loop with other new changes and updates for in-person events coming up. I hope you come along with me on this writing journey.
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While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
Hi, it’s Poetry Night once again. I’ve been busy this month with the imminent release of my book The Yank Striker’s Journey, so poetry hasn’t been on the front-burner of my brain1. But I I do have a couple of offerings for you tonight.
If You’re Interested in my Poetry Here… You Might Want to Check Out Some More
Since Substack doesn’t quite have the setup for this, I’ve set up something here at Liegois Media. I set up my own Internet storefront page where you can order my chapbook for $6 per copy. This is the link, as is the one below.
As far as poetic inspiration goes, I ended up doing a bit of picking up and rearranging some things I’ve stored for a long time. I mean, some of these items have traveled with me for about twenty years at least and between maybe four different houses. The process inspired at least one poem, which I’ll share with you below2.
Other than short circuits and worn wires in the brain
Other than the subconsciousness
Protecting the front of the brain?
Do they get misplaced
Shoved into the back corners of the skull?
Do some memories have shorter life spans than others?
Or does the human hard drive have limited storage
Forced to overwrite older memories for higher priority ones?
It would be good to know
Because finding lost memories
Isn’t as straightforward as finding your phone or house keys.
That’s it for tonight. Hope you’ve had a great June and Pride Month.
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While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
And I’m sorry I blew through my usual deadline for releasing something today (5 p.m. Central). ↩︎
There have been more than a few poems I’ve written not intended for publication (at least not immediately). That’s allowed me to be a bit more free with my experimentation and subject matter than the stuff I write with the express intention to share publicly. ↩︎
