I spent two years living in Scituate, MA in a little house at the edge of the marsh with my close friend & creative accomplice, Francis.

While I lived there, I was writing almost every morning. This writing would become my first book of poems, At the Marsh House.

I'd never lived anywhere with more magic. I'd wake up at dawn & wander down to the seawall to watch sunrise break across the Atlantic.

I spent those mornings sunk into a strange joy, learning to phrase myself up from the bottom of the day, learning to praise the abject beauty I found myself surrounded by.

I went through the journals from those two years, using them as the raw material for this book of poems. I'm glad to be able to share it with you all.