I am just getting started with the surreal-absurd feature for Mercurius Mag. In the coming weeks, we have some stellar poems from Vik Shirley and Chrissy Williams. To join the conversation, I have featured a few of my own surreal-absurd tales and prose poems. Click HERE to read the selection of surreal absurd tales fromContinue reading “Mercurius Surreal-Absurd Feature”
In my youth I ate Jesus body. With Jerry. It was Wonder Bread. Here is the story. A prose poem from The Green Monk (Boiler House Press). It’s called “Leftovers.”
Just got 2 month year old puppy from the shelter. My life has become Pavlovian.
My friend in London, Chris Gutkind, created an art project to cope with isolation and lockdown. Photos on a cheapo phone camera. Paying attention to small details around his house. Day to day hopes, despairs, and wonders. Hopefully it will displayed in a gallery sometime this year. It is available to view now at PERMEABLEContinue reading “Isolation Collaboration”
A selection of Grzegorz Wroblewski’s poetry (translated by Piotr Gwiazda) is now up at Mercurius Magazine from Barcelona. Check them out over here.
In 2014, I read with Grzegorz Wroblewski at the Rich Mix in East London. My poems, from this collaborative reading in 2014, have now been edited into a new manuscript entitled Monkey Magic. Sometimes it takes a while to find the right frame for a book. Hopefully someday it will be published. A recording ofContinue reading “Collaborative Reading with Grzegorz Wroblewski”
Do you like shiny? There is a nice shiny issue of BOAAT from BOAAT Press. I have a shiny poem in there. check it out: http://www.boaatpress.com/bathtub-25
I’ve got some horses over at Bear Review. The horses are Leonora Carrington’s horses too. The poem is part of my book The Green Monk (Boiler House Press). Check out the horses here
I am super happy to have an excerpt from my novel Never Mind the Beasts in Mercurius Magazine (out of Barcelona and the world). The excerpt is from the immigration to Vegas section. Circus Circus. Meat loaf and bishops. Irish ninjas. Lotsa hunks. You can read it over here.
Before moving to Spain, I visited my birth country. Portadown, N. Ireland and then Belfast, to see my biological father. He was a gardener. His wife died. I got an old worker´s hat from her father. World War I. We walked the Shankill. Here is the journey. From my novel Never Mind the Beasts. AvailableContinue reading “Down the Shankill”