I have a new collection of poetry, due out in October 2018. The publisher, Main Street Rag Press, is taking advance orders now. And naturally, I'm trying to drum up some business. Here's the link:
And here's a sample from my previous book "Denny's Arbor Vitae".
Farewell
Farewell and my apologies to the creature in the dumpster. I know I startled you as much as you startled me. Farewell to a Wolverine in a pork pie hat whistling the opening bars
of the New World Symphony. To a skirted retro-hippie teetering on an antique bike a shade of peach to make the Peach God weep. To a gopher on State Street shaking its rump as it
waddled into a thicket. To a deer stock still, tensed to leap at the sound of human step. To the Huron that attracted a plenary of species right outside our balcony. To the black squirrels
and skyscraper trees of Eberwhite Wood -- survivors of a primeval solitude, even greater survivors than me.To Dave at the White Market. To his sad vegetables, his day-old donuts,
his friendly sagging face. He too was a survivor. To Methodist children making a jolly game of raking while their parents stood by looking stern. To priests wading through magnolia
petals beside Thomas the Apostle. To lonely men cruising Mason Hall. To the Rudolph Wurlitzer in the Michigan Theater accompanying Lon Chaney’s 1925 Phantom of the
Opera. To my classroom windows above the marquee. To Sandra, who (very much against her will) rode to school on the back of her daughter’s motorbike. As though any Brazilian
mother needed a pretext to wrap her arms around her daughter and hold on tight. Especially if that daughter’s a gay soldier training for the FBI. To Father Nabil, a Lebanese Maronite
with powers of forgiveness and flirtation deep as the roots of his homeland’s cedars. To Charlie, who never spoke of the family he lost when Burma became Myanmar, who brought
from his garden herbs and a squash of Earth’s deepest green. To the notary public in the bike shop of all places with a jealous chihuahua nipping at her heels as she signed and sealed
http://mainstreetragbookstore.com/pro...
And here's a sample from my previous book "Denny's Arbor Vitae".
Farewell
Farewell and my apologies to the creature in the dumpster.
I know I startled you as much as you startled me. Farewell
to a Wolverine in a pork pie hat whistling the opening bars
of the New World Symphony. To a skirted retro-hippie teetering
on an antique bike a shade of peach to make the Peach God
weep. To a gopher on State Street shaking its rump as it
waddled into a thicket. To a deer stock still, tensed to leap at
the sound of human step. To the Huron that attracted a plenary
of species right outside our balcony. To the black squirrels
and skyscraper trees of Eberwhite Wood -- survivors of a
primeval solitude, even greater survivors than me.To Dave at
the White Market. To his sad vegetables, his day-old donuts,
his friendly sagging face. He too was a survivor. To Methodist
children making a jolly game of raking while their parents
stood by looking stern. To priests wading through magnolia
petals beside Thomas the Apostle. To lonely men cruising
Mason Hall. To the Rudolph Wurlitzer in the Michigan
Theater accompanying Lon Chaney’s 1925 Phantom of the
Opera. To my classroom windows above the marquee. To
Sandra, who (very much against her will) rode to school on
the back of her daughter’s motorbike. As though any Brazilian
mother needed a pretext to wrap her arms around her daughter
and hold on tight. Especially if that daughter’s a gay soldier
training for the FBI. To Father Nabil, a Lebanese Maronite
with powers of forgiveness and flirtation deep as the roots
of his homeland’s cedars. To Charlie, who never spoke of the
family he lost when Burma became Myanmar, who brought
from his garden herbs and a squash of Earth’s deepest green.
To the notary public in the bike shop of all places with a
jealous chihuahua nipping at her heels as she signed and sealed
our affidavit of Domestic Partnership.