She writes like a cross between Antonio Machado and Roger Zelazny.
She carries a wood-axe and bites heads off of nails.
She catches summer lightning in a binder clip.
She wears sandalwood and cinnamon bark.
She knows revelation to its root in the flesh.
She knows a good poem ought to make a reader sweat.
If she were music, she’d be Buddy Guy on guitar and Charlie Musselwhite on harp.
If she were food, she’d be chocolate and curry.
She brought a flamethrower to a gunfight.
She outdrank Molotov and his cocktail.
She knows revelation to its root in the flesh.
She knows a good poem ought to leave you wringing wet.
--with thanks to Bo Diddly and Koko Taylor
Books Available
Country Well-Known as an Old Nightmare's Stable
High-Voltage Lines
Knocking from Inside
Sunday, May 17, 2020
Poet Brag
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1 comment:
I'm reading and appreciating from Haiti. Thanks for keeping on writing.
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