Monday, April 27, 2015

Bling Cap Press

So grateful for this strangely lovely review in Colorado Review of I WAS NOT BORN:

Friday, January 30, 2015

Dirty Rose Dirty Mind Press

Have two poems up at The Destroyer. Pretty pumped:

Extremely blessed to have this review of I Was Not Born up at SFGate by Stephen Burt:

That's all I got for now.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Self-Bromance Press

Hi. Here I am. I'm going to be doing some updating. Right now it's more pragmatic.

Here are two reviews of my new book, I Was Not Born (Noemi Press, 2014)! I kind of can't believe I have a review in Publisher's Weekly:

and also the ever-amazing DIAGRAM:

Maybe you want to nab a copy?:


Also, I've been so slow, BUT, I am ALSO super pumped about these reviews from my other book that came out in 2014, Collateral Light:

Review by Elisa Gabbert on Lemon Hound:

Review by Gil Lawson at HTML GIANT:

Review by Julie Marie Wade at Lamda Literary:

Reviewed by Joshua Ware at Vouched Books:

Reviewed by Jackie Clark at Sink Review:

Okay! Thanks! I will have more updates that are not so promotion-y, I promise.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

A Lineup of Tulips Press

from a 1956 conversation:

Adorno: On the one hand, we are facing questions today that can no longer simply be expressed in economic terms; on the other hand, anthropological questions can no longer be separated from economic ones.

Horkheimer: Today it is no longer possible to distinguish between good and bad.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

After the Credits Roll a Man Is Left in the Lap of a Wolf Press

Chicago: I return to a spinning record player & 8 diner mugs. I return for yogurt & raisins & a skylight. I return to doubt & the desire to be patient with it. I will twirl my hair forever. My ghosts will twirl their heads. They will burn on the roof deck.

Someone in Northampton has a new tattoo, a black outline of a dog on the forearm's white meat.
Someone else in Northampton has a cat named Frances.
Someone else in Northampton lets in mosquitoes.
Someone else in Northampton lies on a quilt.
Someone else in Northampton drinks tap water, lines up wooden animals on a guest desk.

Someone in New York is clanking around the ferris wheel, supervising sandy burials from rusty heights.
Someone else in New York stutters into a row of sidewalk pines.
Someone else in New York shares my fantasy: a house made of water slides.
Someone else in New York shaves her head & sips Russian beer.
Someone else in New York has my throat, is my cold war mistress.
Someone else in New York stores bobby pins in an empty candle box.


I have started a Summer 2014 To Do List. It looks like this right now, not in order of importance:

1) Take meditation classes ASAP to help w anxiety. Make brain better.
2) Establish Exercise routine
3) Write essay on ES*** ASAP
4) Write essay for After Objectivism
5) blurb KJS's chapbook
6) Re-read Sam’s Poem and give feedback
7) Research Writers in the Schools Chicago / make contacts
8) Get and read books/articles on Ethnography in Composition classes / update curriculum
9) Infuse vodka!
10) Plant dill and basil
11) Write letter to GC
12) Write Letters to all the people to whom I am behind on letter writing
13) Care package for JB.
14****** READ books on faith/atheism and WRITE. WRITE. ************

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Sibling to a Cloud Press

I have been gone. For a year, basically. Here I am. I got a fulltime job teaching a 4/4 load at a community college in Chicago. I live in Chicago. I worked 7 days a week. This summer I come/am coming up for air. Sibling to a cloud. Look at those trees go! Dangerous as a silent reader. A crying fig & the mind minds. They were glided. What do we have to decide? Bone styli. Devotion to experience. To attend without differentiating.


Jen Denrow has a poem up at Every Day Genius that is lovely and creepy and lovely again:

What are you waiting for? Click that link.


I am in a hotel in Mississippi. Sometime when I was a child I found it funny to spell MS backwards: Ippississim.

Someone in the other bed is sleeping. The humidity. My locks have never been curlier. We walk round the cul-de-sac. We are waiting for a loved one's loved one to die. We see fire flies. We are not welcome in the house. We hold down the legs of a seizing father. Someone I love is bereft. Someone I love is about to experience great loss. I roll my Rs inside my mouth. I drink rose tea. The hotel hallway has a carpet covered in lungs. I think they are supposed to be berries but they resemble pink lungs. I sit in the hotel hallway. I resemble someone on the phone.

Friday, March 21, 2014

Often I Google Tree Houses Press

The lovely Elisa Gabbert has written about my new book, Collateral Light. And somehow, miraculously, has managed to bring Ashbery & Tori Amos together in one essay:

I am very grateful.