I have a new poem in mixtapemethodology.
You will look at how the hands bow, the tease or hope that when the gold begins to drip, you can cup your hands beneath it, catch the drops. You will not pay heed to the broken arrows forming on your palms, ropes ants might use to climb, take a taste or two; what would it matter to you then?
When your son or daughter sees this painting for the first time, will you tell them how they will never recover what they molt? Will you warn them they are abandoned lots waiting to happen, how all that will be left of you, of them is graffiti on a Facebook wall? How much will they hate you later for making them figure all of this out on their own? What shade will their cheeks take?
Here’s what they’ll remember: clocks as boring pizza.
Here’s what you’ll remember when they see it: the knit of why on their faces, a puff of their breath fluttering their bangs, boredom as a tiring hostage negotiator.
Here’s what you’ll remember when you see it: the heaviness of the moon your first night together with her somewhere new, the wish you tied outside on the Wishing Tree earlier, how it came true.
Even though Safety Third is officially over I will joining Adam Robinson (Publishing Genius), Gina Myers (Lame House Press), Bruce Covey (Coconut Press) on a panel about small presses on Saturday, August 30 at 10am at The Decatur Book Festival. The panel is moderated by the always wonderful Amy McDaniel (421 Atlanta).
My first flash fiction chapbook came out through these guys. The original print run sold out, but lives over here at Amazon. The Serial Rapist Sitting Behind You is a Robot came at the perfect time as I was getting divorced. I got a lot of positive response from it (and one of the pieces in an earlier form is one of the cornerstones for The Bones of Us). Safety Third was a wonderful press and I’ll miss them terribly.
"Honorable Mentions/Side Pieces"
So brilliant. Both songs.
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