writing update

I'm currently writing a novel based on a story I developed with the lovely Erin Dillon. It has a long way to go, but I figured an update would do some good. I'll continue posting poetry and prose, but there's no real intention to publish another book until this novel is done. Perhaps I'll post a chapter from time to time. We'll see.

Also, I wrote an article on Henry Miller for a great publication called Beatdom, but I don't believe I ever mentioned it on this blog. You can check it out here:
http://www.beatdom.com/?p=1342 


Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading.

may 3rd, 2009

gotta keep on rising

she says I wear cigarette smoke well

and I am glad

because I smoke cigarettes

and she is happy enough

with me

two bottles of red wine

and possibly some gouda

I don't need anything else...

not sure if I ever did

do doo do

the ceiling collapsed

and they ran like ants

and they felt like ants

and maybe

for those brief moments

their assholes clenched

and they put life into perspective

and realized their bank account

and their car

and their closet

and their contract

make them no more important

than the guy

watching the footage at home

nursing a beer

and prolonging the weekend

as long as possible

it's a dogfight for everyone

so don't forget it.

may 3rd, 2009

This may have been the first poem I was proud to have written and somehow I left it out of Matzo Ball Soup.  Funny how it all works out.  I have edited this a thousand times and something still feels wrong.  Oh well.

passion play



The coffee scalds my tongue and I leap into the air as if a fire had been lit under my ass.  I land flustered and check for anyone lucky enough to witness the quiet act of absurdity.  There's no one to the left, but to the right sits a man clothed in battered overalls with a beard as long as his withered face.  Our eyes meet and he makes it clear the moment did not go unseen.  He tips his cap in my direction as I study his tired eyes, his flappy cheeks, his watercolor frown.  I feel honored to now play a part in what must be a life gone completely overlooked.  He swivels back to face his food as I grab the water glass from my table and smash it across my left forearm.  The blood runs purple.