What is Kro up to right now?
March 2026 (From Substack)
Pushing when nothing comes out
I write poems for a living—I summon them on-demand, out of thin air, in two minutes or less. When I’m sitting behind a typewriter, people give me a word and BAM! No problem.
But when I sit down to write something for myself? Feels like spending 30 minutes on the toilet with nothing to show for it except a sweaty forehead and a pulled muscle in my back.
So why is that? Why can I write for others, but have such a hard time writing for myself?
I mean, don’t we all suffer from that problem in some way? We can move heaven and earth for someone we love, but the minute it comes to doing a nice thing for ourselves? A strained push, and then nothing. A fart lost to the wind.
I have a problem where I don’t treat myself very well. Back when I was doing The Artist’s Way, I managed to do every step of the program. I did all the writing prompts, the morning pages, the exercises and the homework. The one thing I failed to do consistently? The Artist Dates—the time you’re supposed to set aside once a week to do something silly, fun, and nice for your inner artist.
You can’t create from an empty space; you can’t pull up water if the well is dry. But every chance to be nice to myself makes me want to run screaming—AAHHH! OH NO, A NICE WALK THROUGH THE GARFIELD PARK CONSERVATORY.
I’m attempting to do better. I’ve got a trip to the orchid show planned, and several long meandering walks to take. Hopefully by next month it won’t be so damn hard to write my newsletter.
Here’s hoping my next trip to the poetic toilet will be easier.
News & Updates
I’m running a special on dirty limericks for St. Patrick’s Day! Also not-dirty limericks for St. Patrick’s Day. If you want an Irish-spirited poem from a poet whose ancestors hail from County Donegal and County Dublin, you can fill out this form! One of my favorite limericks is from one of the great minds of our time:
There once was a man from Peru
who dreamed he was eating his shoe.
He woke with a fright in the middle of the night
to find that his dream had come true.
—SpongeBob SquarePants
Upcoming Appearances
International Women’s Day Event at Evanston History Center, March 8, 2026 (4pm-6pm)
Don’t worry, fair patrons! The weather is warming! Soon you can find me out and about street performing, surprising and delighting the streets of Chicago!
What’s Kro reading?
I’m always happy to read and promote words written by friends. Like this book. Sometimes you have to look at the ordinary to find the extraordinary. Sometimes you have to look at the weird to find the beautiful. And sometimes at the nexus of the two you find that which is real. Like truly real; like, really real. Anyway here’s a collection by a fellow queer poet. Go read it.
What’s Kro working on?
My paid-subscribers-only post this month will feature my experience of Chicago’s Poetry Turf Wars. I’ve had a wild time working as a typewriter poet, especially when it comes to watching myself and other poets carve out territory, snipe clients, and jockey for space. When it comes down to it, we’re all artists; and if one thing is true about artists, they all have egos. And egos can make wild things happen. Trying to squeeze this piece out has been a wild ride. Give me some more time to cook and it’ll be out later this month.
