Author Archives: Mark Matzeder

About Mark Matzeder

By education a filmmaker, by trade an electrician, by avocation a writer and sometime scholar. Occasionally I wring an essay out of some observation I have made or experience I've had and share them here. Sometimes I'll share short fiction. Sometimes a poem. But mostly it's just my spin on this strange trip.

A Seat at the Tableaux

Somewhere in the bowels of my mother’s house sits a sturdy coffee table of deep, black wood carved in ornate patterns and iconic rural Japanese dioramas wrapping up the legs and around the 48” x 18” perimeter of the tableau, … Continue reading

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Random Acts

No one knows when Rebecca Silverspoon Bourgeois first came under a geas of performing Random Acts of Kindness. Perhaps it was when her Ladies’ Book Club read that book Oprah hailed for milking anecdotes of the Inner City Poor. Or … Continue reading

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Phoenix Rising

  As we roamed off path through the park I came upon some lovely white toadstools sprung among the lovely languid emerald blades of grass beneath a copse of trees. “Hold up!” I told Leon, and turned on my camera, … Continue reading

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When Nature Claims Her Own

Gaea, the goddess of all the earth, is trying to kill me. I don’t know what I did. I’m on her side, for crying out loud. I’ve always known the Trees are going to win. I’m on their side. But … Continue reading

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A Crow With a Machine Gun

What’s black, sits in a tree, and is very dangerous? –children’s riddle It was sometime near the Solstice because that’s when quirky magical things occur, even if the rest of you are too beguiled by the agents of empiricism to … Continue reading

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The Brief Life and Tragic Death of Starling Witt

Monique found a fledgling Sunday, hopping at the bottom of the basement stairs behind her shop. Monique is the poet, artist, Standing Rock veteran, and all-around bad-ass Latinx dynamo behind The Skullery Maid, a vintage furniture and clothing shop on … Continue reading

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Bards & Other Liars

Do characters in literature recognize when their chapter has come to an end? Once upon a time I thought I wanted to tell stories. This morning I sit looking out my window at rain-slick Troost Avenue cutting northward through the … Continue reading

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