Zoom Reading this Wed.

Info here.

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In Praise of Honey

Spoken word track w/ Ben Wright on bass and Nirmalan Mayura on flute.

Image by James McNeill Whistler.

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Mating Ritual

Welcome to Wildlife, U.S.A. Today we’ll be taking you deep into the concrete jungle of Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, where you’ll witness, uncut and uncensored, the primal mating ritual between the native male and female. Listener discretion advised.

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The Upstart Scarecrow

Spoken word piece, backed by Ben Wright on stand up bass, in which we meet the derelict prophet and visionary, Willy Shakes.

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Jack Kerouac

Cinematic poetic tribute to Jack Kerouac, honoring his centennial birthday (March 12, 2022).

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The Last Days of Jack Kerouac, a film-poem

March 12, 2022 marks the centennial birthday of Jack Kerouac. As one of my first literary crushes, and a seminal influence, I felt compelled to honor Jean-Louis Lebris de Kerouac and his singular contribution to the land of literature, with this film-poem, recorded by my daughter, Sierra Lindsey Biscello.

This poem appears in my collection Moonglow on Mercy Street. A new edition of this book will be released in June by Indie Blu (e) Publishing.

Interesting trivia tidbit: Kerouac’s birthday (March 12) is Charlie Parker’s death date, while Kerouac’s death date (Oct 21) is Dizzy Gillespie’s birthday. Synchronicity be the bop to the beat of cosmic grace.

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After Party

She, Lazarus,

back from the dead,

with a musical vengeance—

A beat, Christ, please,

she asks of her martyred D.J.,

half-light, half-man,

and out climbs her voice, grinding

through rubble, a dark velvet toy

wound up for centuries, released,

on behalf of every last blue girl, unannounced,

notes from underground

unfurling a cortege of white ribbons,

grace lost

now found

among trespasses.

(Poem from the collection, Arclight.)
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God’s Word Against Mine

And on the eighth day

she was diagnosed an Artist,

and saw that it was good

and fierce and necessary,

and went forth creating

like a madwoman,

rattling gravity shackles

to the din of furor

and crumbling towers

within.

(Poem from the collection, Arclight.)

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Immigration Laws

We are
immigrants in our own skin,
flash-fire refugees
who get by with falsified papers,
fake IDs, and forged signatures.
If caught and found guilty
of a trespass
or transgression,
we pardon ourselves
in our native tongues,
language a placeholder
for the names
we were forced
to annul.

(Poem from the collection, Arclight.)

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Claim for the Meek

I do not want to see

the face of God.

I want to see her mask,

where

and for whom it cracked,

the causal history of lines and fissures;

want to trace,

with blind mute innocence,

the light quartered and drawn

in Braille, its grooves holding,

without strain or regret,

Mercy’s hidden inheritance.  

 
Poem from the collection, Arclight, available here.
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