Seth Wieck grew up on a dryland farm in a region that receives less than 20 inches of rain per year. His father counseled him to leave agriculture, so he earned his B.A. in English and philosophy from West Texas A&M University. He now lives in Amarillo with his wife and two sons and teaches language arts to high school students at Cal Farley's Boys Ranch. Seth’s fiction has been published in Narrative Magazine. He keeps track of the things he's read at sethwieck.tumblr.com.
Irony allows us to grasp the nebulae of death or time or memory and examine them as things, briefly, because irony is a posture toward existence that grants the bizarre possibility that things like flowers could stand in the place of gigantic death.
His Tomb is with us to This Day
My nephew’s eulogy was a short, declarative sentence. A subject and predicate.
Why doesn’t the exertion of our grief restore the ones we lose?
An Horologist Returns to Work after His Wife’s Diagnosis
A poem by Seth Wieck
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