You held the islands in your eyes, where it rained and rained and then the sun warmed wet to a wafting hiss. This Jean, you, the feline slink, filigreed shock, and sinewy comb of whitelaced waves ruffling upon puttied blobs … Continue reading
Invention was your solitude, your twin, wasn’t it, Miss Nin? The way you spread secret pages like silk violet capes, like fringed shawls, over an air of mystery, and err of desire. You enabled symmetry, to confess. Why couldn’t a … Continue reading
Some men rattle their chains and wonder, some sing them. Then there are others who spraypaint their chains rainbow siege and dance a jig like a peacock on fire, and when someone asks Isn’t it hard to dance around with … Continue reading
Inferiority might have been your first memory. Though you were born on American soil, Denver, CO, April 8th, 1909, the chinked chains of immigration had you by the throat and bowels, pinched your nerves as you butted your head against … Continue reading
Completed draft of my new novel, No Man’s Brooklyn. A return to childhood, to the source of ghosts, to Brooklyn roots.
Dear Blogging-Community-at-Large: My second novel, Raking the Dust, will be re-released by Unsolicited Press on April 3rd (as part of a build-up toward the release of my new novel, Nocturne Variations, in November). I am offering a limited number of … Continue reading
To be swallowed, wordless, as the worst you always feared turns lighted proof into lasting scripture.
Review of Fernando Pessoa’s Book of Disquiet, appearing in Riot Material. “Abandon hope all ye who enter here, might be the most fitting sign and qualifier preceding entry into the world of Disquiet. And yet, paradoxically, there is beauty, staggering, asphyxiating … Continue reading
One thing we cannot recover is time. And perhaps every writer, as a fugitive stalker, as a fool-hero on a desperate quest, sets himself this glorious, impossible task, the solvent recovery of time through the mortal fetters of a merciful … Continue reading
