Michele McDannold's Blog

Michele McDannold is a poet, editor, and organizer who has been actively involved in the literary community for many years. She has published several collections of poetry and founded The Literary Underground, a non-profit grassroots organization that promotes underrepresented voices in the literary world. By supporting McDannold on Patreon, you will gain access to exclusive…

Originally posted on Rusty Truck:
? west coast notebook re-entry poem #17 vagrant observations if only all days were the ways in which the rainbow propagates into jumbo mouse ears. wrought iron fences shaped to hold the childhood in. what sort of wicked porn turned this into a busty lustful waterfall moment a wife-beater wet…

Foreword by Dan Denton, Edited by Ezhno Martín “Michele McDannold is a literary rebel and this irreverent, delicious book, her best yet, is proof. McDannold has a way of stripping everything down to its essentials, leaving the reader sated, and yet with a strange sense of longing. “i guess/that’ll have to/be enough” the poet says…

steel reserve 211 (high gravity) trading a brown bag beer from the rite-aid for a cold one in my sweater.. i told you these are important decisions. gliding down sunset blvd when the gradients are just right the differently-abled humps her walker at the bus stop blowing devotions at the moon sky & all the…

doorbells, mornings and death or (If you are Cunt) listen when you start writing from the brain chuck it out the door feed the cats with it call it meow meow chow whatever you’ve got to be heart, shit or balls if you’re cunt you better know how to translate and yes, they’ll tell you…

west coast notebook entry #2 (if your process needs a mountain, go) it’s very complicated. possible i might not come down from this highway crest in the clouds here comes the rain, just a sprinkle one could feel cold save for the sun-direct patches of light you know what it reminds me of? as does…

Grandma Ham (no relation) lived a half block away in my six block childhood had bottles of cold coke stored in what resembled a refrigerator from the beginning of time house probably built up around it made popcorn on the stove with real butter and loads of salt i never knew her when she wasn’t…

at the tee gee club #1 bob wants to hear metal we fumble the quarter and change the language to Spanish but eventually he gets it three songs later Planet Claire Elvis Costello and that one prince song all the while his fifth wife and a trip to the phillipines he gets his quarter time…

west coast notebook entry #1 today we go again. birds chirping good morning smoking a bowl on the sidewalk in oakland. can i turn the hardest criminal to a smile? i feel sort of naked about it though it’s difficult to imagine anyone much pays attention outside of themselves. it took a good three months…

Rubber White and Puckered I dreamt of living in a rubber room (my head wrapped around a train) the whistle it doesn’t sound like a whistle not like the old western movies when I say old (I mean dead, they seem dead) that black and white trapped in a box must be bones it is…