impeccable

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Be welcome, my curious digital friends! I trust “reading more poetry” was tops amongst your resolutions for 2026? If so, proceed.

I have so many new projects in flight for 2026. Top of mind is finishing the manuscript for my new book of poetry – hopefully in the next three months. My current published books are below, if interested.

Now on to some new poetry….

I love a good challenge.

Last week, a dear friend of mine, who also ironically shares the “PS” moniker, challenged me to write a horror poem for her. Challenge accepted. Dedicated to PS.

This week’s poem got me thinking about trust. More explicitly, the trust we place in the people and institutions that can betray us – friends, family, lovers… maybe even our governments.

Let’s focus in on governments.

This last week, those of us in the US watched our president launch a “police action” into a sovereign nation in Venezuela. Don’t get me wrong, Nicolas Maduro is a piece of shit criminal who deserves everything he gets.

But we, the citizens, placed trust in our government to act on our behalf. To act with honor and legality. To follow the same rules we plebes are required to adhere to.

Not to waste billions of dollars harnessing the US military for an arrest. Not to blockade another nation and then steal its resources as remuneration. At that point, how are we any less complicit in the very criminality we claim to oppose?

This week’s poem circles that complicity in thick red pen.

Because the scariest part isn’t always the violence. It’s the professionalism. The calm face. The tidy justification. The sense that, because it was done efficiently, it must have been done rightly.

Power doesn’t live in abstraction; it lives in outcomes. In bodies. In borders. In money. And in the language used to make it all sound reasonable. Once we accept that language – necessary, legal, strategic – we’re not just observing anymore. We’re participating.

So here’s what I can’t stop wondering: at what point does admiring how well something is done make us complicit in the evils carried out in our name?

As always, I look forward to hearing your thoughts, feelings, and reactions to this week’s poem in the ‘Leave a Reply’ comment section at the very bottom of this page.

-PS Conway ☘️☘️☘️

☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️

impeccable

“Beneath the pressure of torments such as these,
the feeble remnant of the good within me succumbed.”
— Edgar Allan Poe, The Black Cat

there’s a mockingbird upon my headstone;
i hear its song
from deep inside this darkness,
listening to autumn leaves clattering
along the grass, trampled flat
by black-shined shoes, patent leather stepping
high above my rest.

if rest this be so named.
for i feel my heart hammer,
pounding upon an anvil’s steel,
hot in its need to become something
other than this stillness.

even muted birdsong is beautiful
in a life accustomed to the laughter of ravens;
nobody knows what they say, or why,
but i could feel their derision
with each incision you made
removing the pieces that shaped me…
the washer at the ford summons
i cannot yet listen, let alone answer.

no rest for the weary,
or is it the wicked?
no matter, your smile still haunts me,
taunts me as you hover, my dark angel,
with your insipid little pinpricks.

pinpricks of light, watching the lowering,
unable to scream through sutures,
knowing your sewing
was impeccable.

☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️

☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️

This Week’s Links…

Media News…

*NEW* My interview with author Tricia Copeland on her podcast Finding the Magic Book is now available to watch: https://youtu.be/NhieYECI-H4  🥂🤯

Latest Publication News 

December has been a productive month for me. Eight poems published (so far). If you are interested in a copy of any of these, I have embedded the Amazon links below.

  1. I have six poems published in FromOneLine Volume 7, an anthology of poems/stories where the writers were given one opening line to maintain, then build a poem/story around it. Gratitude to Meghan Dargue for including my work and for editing such a thoughtful compilation from a deeply talented group of writers.
    *
  2. I have two poems published in The Belfast Review, Winter/Spring 2026. Based in the north of Ireland, this gorgeous emerging literary magazine, in addition to poetry, “aims to create a dialogue between the arts, featuring genres not usually included in literary journals such as song lyrics, plays, screenplays, and hybrid forms, to better reflect the lived experience of art, the self, and the city.”

Latest News – Life Sucks…

So far, Life Sucks has received so many ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Editorial Reviews. More to come soon.

I’m anticipating a whole bunch of solid Reader Reviews to begin populating Amazon in the next few weeks, too. The goal is to get to 50 Reader Reviews asap to kick Amazon’s promotion engine into a higher gear.

Speaking of Editorial Reviews, we secured a BIG ONE – BookLife. This is the indie press division of Publishers Weekly and represents a major credibility lift to my published work. Here is a link, in case you’re interested in reading the entire review:

https://booklife.com/project/life-sucks-memories-and-introspections-during-the-great-covid-lockdown-101267

And here are a few other snippets of other editorial reactions so far!

– “Snort-laughs and gasp-worthy wit – PS Conway goes there, and it’s hilarious.”

– “A must-read for anyone stressed, cynical, or just in need of a damn good laugh.”

– “Darkly funny, brutally honest, and weirdly comforting – like therapy, but with colonoscopies.”

☘️ COME BACK EACH WEEK FOR NEW POETRY ☘️ 

2 comments

  1. A perfect psychological study of entrapment!!! It suggests that the person who buried the speaker did so with a “smile” and a sense of perfectionism. The “wicked” or “weary” ambiguity suggests the speaker may not be entirely innocent, but their fate of being buried alive and perfectly silenced is a gruesome ultimate punishment. Well done, PS! Chilling to the bones!!!

    Reply

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