- Joined
- Mar 5, 2023

(edit to add) :
Browsing his Tumblr, other stuff I found:
Maybe Another Link to My Writing Blog
Maybe Another Link to My Writing Blog http://deathofthelivingsun.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2011-05-16T10%3A32%3A00-07%3A00&max-results=7
Other written work, I just skimmed through it and it just looks boring. But I cannot see anywhere him claiming it, despite being published under his deadname?





The Canticle (dark fantasy adventure) by Micah E.F. Martin | Goodreads
archived 26 Mar 2023 22:47:26 UTC


Godhead of the Immortal Moth King (Literature) - TV Tropes
archived 26 Mar 2023 22:47:43 UTC


Moth-King
Hey guys! How about going over and checking out my just-launched story blog, Godhead of the Immortal Moth-King? It's a dark fantasy epic set on the world of Cthun, and it'll be unfolding over the...

The Canticle (dark fantasy adventure)
Type: short story-In the last city on earth there are t…
You can get all the other books (no manhunt) here: https://melmoththewanderer.gumroad.com/
Terrible poetry (I think it is supposed to be poetry?)
Clustered in kabuki theaters
Men and women jammed together
Cocooned in silk
Like swaddling cloth.
Where do faces end? In the manufacture of expression?
I see snow in all our eyes
Reflected in some mirror.
I shift ricepaper walls and make new rooms.
We’re expecting
All nineteen of us
A storm of tired eyes and half-open mouths
We’re short on hands
And worse off for fingers.
I try to make them mine, my children
Little faces carrying me
Through time like a millstone.
Hand on the back of the neck
My father reaching through me
You’ll leave when I tell you to leave
You’ll eat what I tell you to eat
You’ll love who I tell you to love.
There are so many ginkgo leaves
In the yard.
https://nonameinanytongue.tumblr.com/post/14357035583/theory
Men and women jammed together
Cocooned in silk
Like swaddling cloth.
Where do faces end? In the manufacture of expression?
I see snow in all our eyes
Reflected in some mirror.
I shift ricepaper walls and make new rooms.
We’re expecting
All nineteen of us
A storm of tired eyes and half-open mouths
We’re short on hands
And worse off for fingers.
I try to make them mine, my children
Little faces carrying me
Through time like a millstone.
Hand on the back of the neck
My father reaching through me
You’ll leave when I tell you to leave
You’ll eat what I tell you to eat
You’ll love who I tell you to love.
There are so many ginkgo leaves
In the yard.
https://nonameinanytongue.tumblr.com/post/14357035583/theory
Last edited: