Tag Archives: Poetry

This Book Doesn’t Resolve Itself

“So many novels are built around control. Even when they deal with rupture, they shape it into something we can grapple with. Events lead somewhere. Meaning accumulates in a way that can be tracked. By the end, the reader understands … Continue reading

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Glaze

Solitude waxing blankly in the company of words— Moon’s forecast: warm, gospel, and fuzzy.

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Vigil

Clouds, fleecy in glaring mass, softly, softly, the words tender themselves to silence in passing.

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Compass

It could be called Variations on Love, how we find each other again and again, in different modes and phases, nearness teased out of growth’s grinning desire to story and multiply, to bring lives into exquisite sync and pulse— This, … Continue reading

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Enclosure

Her body, her body breaking in time, a vivid stutter and scratch, repeated in my mind’s amateur attempts to braid or grasp what amounts to sand in wind— Life, oh life, a series of manic shutters and twitches, threaded to … Continue reading

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May-Day

(Buon compleanno, Nonna Maggio!) As a wounded bird,forever hesitant in flight and gamble,a parable unto your own tender cause,your eyes gave watery wayto a trilling warble,a brave and weary tunethat spoke soundly of hearts breakinginto smiles,never too soonor wasted. (Mat … Continue reading

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Hymn

In her body, her body, repeatable as scorch and given grail, I come blindly into words, so many words, a stunning slate of Braille and seductive run-on— my fingers, dodo in their impossible flights, stutter and fail to reach the … Continue reading

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Micro-Film

Modeling tense pause in a suspended sentence– noir, titled: Breathless.

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Two Events

Upcoming events for The Last Furies on the Left Coast: * Reverie Bookstand (1519 W. Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles), January 17th at 7pm* Lucky 13 Gallery (391 Coronado Avenue, Long Beach), 2pm I will be reading excerpts from the novel, … Continue reading

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A Brief History of Love

Here, her mother said, pressing something into her palm.    A phantom tack. A concentrated pinch. Something sharp breaking skin and spreading heat.    She looked down. Her palm now tattooed with a tangle of dark glyphs, a concert of … Continue reading

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