I am thrilled to announce that my first full-length collection, Our Loveliest Bruises, is now available at 3: A Taos Press. Many thanks to publisher Andrea Watson for taking this book and seeing it through, and to Veronica Golos, whose wisdom and encouragement helped make a nebulous dream come true. I am also deeply grateful for the thoughtful and generous blurbs provided by Veronica, David Wevill, Anna Marie Sewell and Michael Simms. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I am honored and thrilled to report that three of my chapbooks have been reviewed by Svetlana Litvinchuk, reviews editor of the literary juggernaut Only Poems. Thank you, Only Poems team!
My poem, “Vigilance,” is live at Sontag Mag. Many thanks to editor Asheley Nova Navarro for taking this piece, another in my series of hendecasyllabic poems.
I am thrilled to announce that my chapbook, In the Garden of Wind’s Delight, a collection of 22 short poems exploring the ecology of mind, spirit, and music through meditations on learning to play the shakuhachi, the traditional Japanese bamboo flute, is available from the publisher, Illuminated Press. Founded by Laura Rowley in 2014, Illuminated Press specializes in books crafted by hand, featuring handmade papers for elements such as covers and endpapers. This book is hand bound in the Yotsume Toji binding, the traditional four-hole Japanese binding structure. Limited to 300 copies.
Many thanks to Laura Rowley and the Illuminated Press team for bringing this work to fruition.
My poem, “It’s All About Me,” is live at First Literary Review-East. Many thanks to editors Cindy Hochman and Karen Neuberg for taking this piece (another in my hendecasyllabic series)..
A recording of my poem, “Moon Cows,” is featured at Shō Poetry Journal via a link. Many thanks to editors Johnny Cordova and Dominique Ahkong for making this available.
Ode to Bacon
How you lend
yourself
to others,
enhancing even
the sweetest fig
in your embrace
over coals,
or consider
your rendered
self, how it
deepens flavor
with piggish
essence, coating
or absorbed,
blended or
sopped. O belly
of delight, o wonder
of tongues,
how could I not
love you
and your infinite
charms, even
when you resist
my efforts and
shoot sizzling bits
of yourself
onto my naked
hands? I pay
this toll
gladly,
today and
next year
and all those
days to follow,
till the last piece
is swallowed
and our sun
goes dark.
Hyperbole
becomes you,
smoked beauty,
salted love,
and I shall never
put you down
or leave you
behind
on a plate
to be discarded
or forgotten,
unloved.
“Ode to Bacon” first appeared here in July 2017, thanks to T.S. Wright’s challenge. Chemotherapy has wrecked (temporarily, I hope) my sense of taste. The other day I fried a few pieces of bacon because I wanted a bacon and egg sandwich. The egg was fine, but alas, the bacon was off. Still, I love the thought of munching on a crisp piece…
Your Armpits Smell Like Heaven
But your breath could melt a glacier at three
miles, she says, and then we might consider
the dirt under your nails, the way you slur
your sibilants, and how you seldom see
the cracked eggs in a carton, a downed tree
branch in front of you, the ripened blister
of paint in the bedroom, or your sister
lying drunk on the floor in her own pee.
Back to your armpits. Do you realize
we could bottle that aroma and make
a fortune? I inhale it and forgive
your many faults. The odor provokes sighs
and tingles, blushes I could never fake.
Ain’t love grand? Elevate those arms. Let’s live!
I thought it was time to post something for fun, a poem that might elicit a few chuckles. Note that this is in the Petrarchan sonnet form (or should I say Pitrarchan). Thanks Plain Jane!
Never in my wildest dreams did I envision writing a poem about armpits. But the August 2015 Tupelo Press 30-30 challenge/fund raiser, and Plain Jane, the title sponsor, provided that opportunity. This first appeared here in April 2016, and was subsequently published in Algebra of Owls. Many thanks to editor Paul Vaughan for taking it.
My short creative nonfiction piece, “Ossuary,” is live at The Woolf. Many thanks to editors DB, Kristen and Susan for taking this piece, which first appeared on this blog about ten years ago.
O at the Edges 