In his own words:
Writing, poetics, photography, visual arts etc. are all mediums I can channel energy into and receive energy from by the creative act. I know that sounds ambiguous or pretentious, but that is because it is. I love to live “mythically”, and these are vehicles for me to do so and vehicles that allow me to share said “myths” and creative “creatures”.It’s this energy and the myriad perspectives of the universe I can glean that draws me to the work of others. It is also why I have always enjoyed and been willing to collaborate with others in creative endeavors, whether they were musicians, visual artists, fellow writers, etc. There is seldom described sweet tension in the collaborative process where the sum is greater than those who contribute, and it becomes more than symbiotic as everyone leaves the project with more than they arrived with. And that to me is love with a capital “L”.
Hex’m J’ai:
Currently resides on Earth with his significant other, offspring, various extraplanar entities (it is crowded up in here), two cats and a crustacean. Hex’m J’ai has been writing and creating since circa 1990 EV. though this date is speculative at best as there is earlier evidence. That said Hex’m has frequented the spoken word stage of NYS capital region since the mid 1990’s and continues to do so. The experiments of Hex’m J’ai have been published by: The Rye Whiskey Review, Under the Bleachers, Unlikely Stories, Mark V, Alien Buddha Press, Rogue Wolf Press and several others. Hex’m J’ai is currently the co-editor of Dead Man’s Press Ink.
Catalogue of Hex’m J’ai’s most recently published work:
Arm Chair Icarus
Lacklustre: The Meanderings of Mole-Man Jack
Elemental
Widdershins
Negative. Space.
The Secret Utopia of Mole-Man Jack
Death and war had become
The not so secret whores of
Celebrity
Even love (though not LOVE),
When scandalous,
Hiked up her skirt and let
Her spaghetti straps fall
Just off the shoulder
She new when the camera was watching
And straddled the bar between
'Raunchy' and 'tasteful'
Click
Far below the sewer grates
That catch broken glass, roses and tabloids;
Below the white monoliths and modern art
Tree houses;
Below the liquor stores, malls and crack houses;
Below the fallout shelters and syringes;
Below the streets
Of this city
Below it's
Egg
Lives Jack
Considering himself
A sovereign cosmic entity,
Jack concluded to secede from
The cultural union
Originally he wanted to move
In the other direction
But he found that battling
Rooftop samurai
Would be strategically
Unsound
Besides "they have satellites"
And lovely Luna had been claimed
By astronauts, witches and poets
Drunk
On potential....
He wanted her to have a world
A world of sun and sky;
A world of chalk drawings
And fingerpaint visions
A world of river parks and
First kisses
One of fairies and robots and
Mythic bliss
He forgot to speak of injustice
He neglected to inform her
Of the evil of restriction
Or that nature is a mechanism
He never told her where hot dogs
Really came from
Or that the lovely shapes of clouds
We're composed of poisons and
Evaporated blood
When her ghost was given
He forgot to cry
No, he didn't forget
He just couldn't....
Jack was a well educated nothing
A psychic sponge that could never
Be wrung
Though he had interest in current
Events
He found parties distasteful as
The agents and politicos
Would overwhelm him
Their onslaught of well
Crystallized rhetoric
And citations
Rendering him mentally
Frozen
Their sleek logic and
Eloquent passion leaving him
Befuddled and repeating phrases:
"The Emperor has NO clothes!"
In the kingdom of the one sock
Jack was the gracious co-ruler,
Along with his friends Bert and Raul
Here, below the radar and nonsense
He was no longer subject
To pocket fascism
For Jack surmised, being well read,
That it is far better to rule in
The basement
Than to serve in
The kitchen
Lighting fires would alert
The others
So Jack had acquired a taste
For his rat to be raw
Raul has seemed to have
Forgiven him for this
Indiscretion
Yet a ruler of Jack's prowess
Cannot be sustained on rat
Alone
Fortunately, the kingdom of the
One sock
Is abundant
With what he refers to as
The fields of the found
When it rains
High Spring
The Egg
As if by osmosis
Trickles a steady
Parthenogenesis
Raul is thrilled
Wormy tail swishing
In the liquid life that has
Been purified by layers
Of concrete and offices
Bert clings to the driest
Of supports
Until the Egg has abated
Some afternoons
Herald the arrival of the sage
The only outlander
Who does not suffer the vengeance
Of Jack's divine staff of reckoning
The sage brings offerings
Exotic treats of
Cheese, cigarettes and cheap liquor
Click
The village crier
And the shaman
Have been banished
There is a well tanned vampire
Invited into every home
Summoned by mothers
By children
By brothers and buttons
Sensory drugs compliment
The virus of language
Honing new creatures
Refining new golems
From superior
Calcinations
Click
Decomposition is ripe with Chi
Amidst his mushroom hell
Jack has erected temples
Portals to the out land
Thrift store televisions
Create an arching wall
Around his thrown
And he watches
He summons
He laughs
He still can not cry.
Click
At the bus station
Amidst the free philosophy
Of the restroom wall
Is the shaky signature
A scrawl of ownership
A window to the kingdom
"Jack lives"
Click
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