Free ebook! In the Garden of Evil

My epic dark fantasy, In the Garden of Evil, is free today. Download your free copy, and please share!


The Massacre Introjection (from Wordless)

Check out my poem! It’s from my new poetry collection, Wordless, which you can find on my author page:



The Massacre Introjection

It’s hard to revision your decision
when the backstab
feels like a jagged dagger
and feels good

intentionality meaningful meaningless
nothing but regression
regret not yet infinite regress

the spine is sore from too much strain
as if it’s somehow possible
to hold up the pain

reminisce rethink reshape
word dagger nothing not quite quiet thought
jagged juxtapose and pointless dagger point

well no wonder the ice heart burns
burns while it yearns
burns as hot as cold phoenix fire blood
release the flood

I become nothing (less)

do you not understand
of course it’s not (understand)
experiential differential
valid logic coldly calculate
so real surreal bent

I told the truth
and faked in it
remove me from natural selection
me from survival

is it wrong to admit
you fell me

the ice heart is just
a nice cruel art

I backstab sincerity
for clarity

epidemic catastrophe
you are just as

but of course that is
that is
of course that is the illusion

so I’m going to Hell then
scare myself awry with idolatry
blood-stained ideology

dangerous idea-ology
the study of thought undercut neurobiology
as if well it is well it is

well it is

as if you could really know
spine snap

I shut the fuck up
spine tap
I shut the hell up
spine break brain lesion deathly cognition


fuck dichotomous
life and death
butchered right and wrong

let me dangerous ideology
mental technology
let me become a backstabbed murder
let me drip with sweet suicidal sin
succumb to deep pain within

I murder myself in Hell
I am torment

I deserve suicide

letting out my mind
will secure the danger.

Recent and Upcoming Indie Book Releases

A list of upcoming and recent indie books, compiled by author Daulton Dickey.

Lost in the Funhouse

Daulton Dickey.

Absolutely Golden: A Novel
D. Foy
Stalking Horse Press

Absolutely-Golden-Store-ImageIt’s 1973, and a thirty-something widow has been cajoled by a young hippie parasite into financing their vacation to a nudist colony in the Northern California mountains. The night before their departure, however, she arrives home to learn that she and this man will be accompanied by the stripper on his lap. At Camp Freedom Lake, the trio meet a womanizing evangelist, a bumbling Zen gardener, and a pair of aging drug-addled swingers from Holland. Together, they’re catapulted through one improbable event after the other, each stranger than the last, until finally the woman who was dominated by her fear of past and future finds herself reveling in the great here and now.

D. Foy’sAbsolutely Goldenis a radical departure from his two previous novels,Made to BreakandPatricide. It’s comic, ebullient, magic, light…

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Morning Rituals, Meat Machines, and Tragedy in Vegas

Definitions of Tragedy.

Lost in the Funhouse

Daulton Dickey.

I woke in a void, empty. The room appeared as a mirage: both there and not there. Stumbling across the room to get dressed, then sneaking downstairs and closing the door behind me, certain not to wake my wife and baby, I floated in a state devoid of thought. A machine running on autopilot. Our dog stood in his kennel, whimpering. I let him out and followed him into the kitchen and opened the backdoor to let him out. He ran, tail wagging. After pushing past the cats in the bathroom doorway, I took a leak and brushed my hair and put on deodorant. Then I ambled into the kitchen and kneeled in front of the oven—after turning on the exhaust vent overhead—and lit a cigarette.

I turned on my phone and checked the news: a slaughter in Las Vegas. More than fifty dead. As many as…

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Two Brief Thoughts on Van Gogh, Artistic Rebellion, and the Mediocrity of Modern Art

This article is a much needed antidote to society’s brainwashing of artists.

Lost in the Funhouse

Daulton Dickey.


People romanticize Vincent Van Gogh as an archetypal “starving artist,” a genius who suffered from poverty and anonymity, only to secure a seat in the Western canon after his death. It’s a touching story, one invoked by countless artists who think they’re not receiving the level of recognition they deserve.

vincent-van-gogh---alienated-artistHis work is familiar to us now, and it’s easy to forget that he wasn’t producing popular, “mainstream” faire. He was an avant-garde artist, a man who rejected convention and orthodoxy. His marginalization in his lifetime wasn’t accidental; he knew he was taking risks; he knew he was doing something new and innovative; and he knew people wouldn’t embrace it.

His willingness to sacrifice everything by pursuing a kind of art that flew in the face of convention, his avant-garde approach to painting, his devotion to his vision kept him destitute and alone. He suffered…

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Neuron (from Wordless)

This poem is from my new book of poetry, Wordless. You can find the book, free for Kindle today and tomorrow, on my author page:

I feel I felt
the hook
but it was only

didn’t and or couldn’t
and maybe just a little
is not

the neuron is emergent emergence see
fenced in mind I mind hook in mind
where does the neuron even come


the neuron is soft sweet sensitive
electrical chemical

my words are not mine
they belong to my neuron
a little bleeding neuron
flash by

the neon sign cut to the quick
truth as signs
it’s hard to stay insane or sane
never merely

the electrical copy
a signal for the brain elite
I admit I didn’t don’t know
but I am not and
or I let go of the neuron
push forward neuronal (networked)
even if only

alien neuron
rewire or fire
dualistic materialism
the same as rationalism

my neuron stays intact

to remind me of
the bird in flight that…

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