Confluence by Ron Androla

by Ron Androla

"Confluence" by poet Ron Androla is a major, important classic. 190 pages carefully crafted by Kurt Nimmo & Busted Dharma Books, edited by Ann Androla, "Confluence" shows the reader the wide range of Ron Androla's linguistic talent. "Confluence" is an instant collectible for any library by this prolific legendary writer who has been published extensively since the 1970s.

Paperback

First published October 11, 2015

About the author

at 13 i fell in love with a 15 year old girl, who sooned turned 16, & able to drive. i wrote long-hand love poems to her in notebooks, the most forceful act i cld do when not talking to her on the phone for many solid hours. i don't remeber how we ended, but at my first year of college in 1972 she was in an accident, her vett slipped under the back of a semi truck, decapitating her. poetry became energy. my highschool sweetheart kathy must have had hundreds of sappy loves poems written for her, & ultimately there's tragedy there too. i felt my being bend to forms of poetry, felt most comfortable with the likes of ez pound & charles olson & robert creeley & william carlos williams, but read various outshoots from w.s. merwin to ms. plath, to the beats, kerouac, to henry miller, buwoski, intrigued by language poets i.e., larry eigner, & the PROCESS, which i knew in my early 20's wld be a life-long process. a poet must live by his wit's, i remember creeley explaining in an interview, & my wits had me working in various factories for 35 years. still, thru all the decades, i wrote. i cldn't NOT write. it was NECESSARY. i had no control. wild years of drunken readings. & most of the details i cannot recall. these days, married to ann, who is also a writer, who fell in love with in the mountains of new hampshire 25 years from suddenly hearing her voice in my soon-be-lost house thru a long marriage into divorce & the rage of that, hell, but ann, my love, soul-mate moved up against lake erie & we married & aging without mercy, thanks the stars for the strike at the last factory, i'm out of that, into something different:
weighed against 350 degree presses & fiberglass dust, all metals yell, & i sit in a partial cubicle now, headset on, keyboard under my finger & the computer screen. it isn't a job without stress, & it doesn't pay factory wages, & the hours change weekly; whatever, at age 54 i'm a poet. i've worked relentlessly. i never want to stop.

Reviews

[Gregory T Hampton · Rating 5 out of 5]

White Water Rafting In A Craft Made Of Words

Emotional rapids rise and fall beneath as you twist and turn through the poems that form the river of Ron's life.
A wonderfully colorful journey through a world more layered than the eyes perceive.