HeyJaredOut of the Ashes
Mythopoetics, streams of the unconsciousness, little apology
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 9
- Latest publication
- Sep 28, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 16, 2026
Latest issues
The Art of Standing in A Threshold (opens the original)
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I had a dream, a dream of a hidden room down the hallway of my own house.I am in our house, but the hallway is longer than it should be, and at the end of it there is a door I have never opened. I know this house. I have lived here twenty years. There has never been a door there.I open it, and it is not a closet. It is a room with a dirt floor and one window, and through the window there is fog moving over a field, and in the field there are horses standing patiently, likely half asleep.I unders
A Dream Story (opens the original)
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THE MURDERED WOMANI am unfolding a novel from way inside myself.I have no idea where I am going in this novel and it mirrors a feeling that I have about my own life as I stand in the liminal space between old and older.Thanks for reading Out of the Ashes! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.<inpu
Seven Minutes of Poetry (opens the original)
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OCEAN AND WAVEOur dreammaking souls don the oceanwhen they wish to speak of the illimitable Self.The ocean is not just a symbol.It is not a metaphor the psyche reaches forwhen something is too large to say plainly.The ocean is the thing itself —the elemental being, the source and the destination,the place the unconscious has been trying to take mesince I was a teenagersleeping in a white clapboard boarding house</s
Something Inside Us May Die Without All the Stories (opens the original)
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Since 2021, the count keeps climbing like water finding its level (and after the catastrophic flooding this week in Nepal, we know what that metaphor actually looks like): nearly twenty-three thousand books removed from the shelves of American schools, six thousand eight hundred and seventy in this last year alone, nearly four thousand distinct titles pulled down like fruit stripped early from the branch. Florida leads, then Texas, then Tennessee — a geography of erasure, a map drawn not by rive
I’m Re-Working It... a bit of chapter six (opens the original)
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THE SLEEPING PORCHThe chamomile tea performed its magic and she fell back into sleep. Psyche wasn’t done with her. The foundation had been laid, and she found herself in a house near the ocean.I am a guest — I feel it as guests feel it, with that alertness to the rules one has not yet learned, the light switches in unexpected places, the extra-nice guest towels you’re not sure you should use. Whose food is in the fridge and can I help myself to a snack without asking?</
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