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. Think I will play hooky today and read The Torture Report in bed. Is that what kids do these days when they play hooky?

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.

Friday, October 24, 2014

I Want To Control the Future Press

The 5 Steps to My Pedagogical Redemption:
1. Student writes an essay about fitting in called the "Bro Community"
2. In "Bro Community" student supports thesis with the reason that he brings the "party bag" to the bro parties.
3. Student disappears for 9 classes.
4. Student returns and asks to be let back into the class.
5. I, the Professor, get to say "Not even a party bag can save you now, bro."
The End.

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.