Not a Newsletter

The Weekly(ish) Weird

You there.

Yeah, you - the one who names your backyard squirrels and eats M&Ms by color.

You’ve found your way to Mz. Donkey.

I don’t write poems for everyone.
I write them for the weirdos.

For the kid who got detention for drawing lasers on worksheets.

For the adult who still opens the grocery store door with The Force.

For the teacher who slipped magic between the margins.

For the parent who’s raising a weirdo they may not understand but definitely fiercely love.

Here’s what you get when you sign up:

• A poem. Not content. Not filler. Not AI slop.
• A real, illustrated, human-made, rhyme-that-should-not-exist poem.
• Painted by hand. Written by someone who knows the rules of poetry - and breaks them on purpose.
• Weird facts. Art dares. Possibly a fart joke.
• And the only place I reveal why I’m called Mz. Donkey... and why you are now officially a Burrito. (That last part will make sense. Probably.)

What is The Weekly(ish) Weird, really?

It’s not just an email.
It’s a reminder.

That the world is stranger - and better - than it pretends to be.

That your inbox can still feel like a portal.

That someone out there still believes in handmade magic - and wants to send you some.

And it doesn’t sit around waiting.

Each dispatch is one-of-a-kind.
No archives. No reruns. No “catch it later.”
If you miss it, you miss it.

If you’re thinking:
“I’m not really a poetry person.”
Good. Neither are these poems.

They’re for people who grew up weird and stayed that way.
For anyone who wants a talking hot dog one minute and a lump in their throat the next.

You don’t need to love poetry.
You just need to want your Tuesday to feel... less Tuesday-ish.

So.

If you’re ready for a new ritual.
A little color. A little chaos. A little wonder.