Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Before I sputter out...

her words scratch
to satisfy my eczema-plagued
soul with explanations
that, yeah,
we all sleep
with a little night light
for years longer than we should.

we've all got parasites
that feed in the dark,
rustle and shake away
at the resolve we had when the sun
stood us up on our shadow-base

the truth is, her and I
have very different night lights.
Hers burns red across the white
and mine burns black
at the end of this pen
searing my thoughts into this poor page.

Monday, January 9, 2012

The ghost veins gossip.

I've two poems forthcoming in Durable Goods Magazine. They'll be in issue 55. I will have a few copies of this issue which I plan to spread around to a few local places so that it can be enjoyed. I'll also probably get around to doing readings involving the pieces within the issue sometime in the next month or so.

I love even just the concept of this magazine and I encourage anyone reading this to go check it out. Subscribe. Understand that print will only die if you let it and that this computer screen you're staring at means fuck all in the world.

When you die, do you want to leave something behind? I do: A pantload of words. In this digital age, how many people are really going to have their works endure? If it's on a website, a hard drive, a disc, or any other digital media, I will bet my bottom dollar that it disappears. But print... it's something you can hold, smell, FEEL. Don't let that die.

Support small press. Support the PRINTED word.