He collects her stories
holds them in his palm
fingers them
smooth
rubs away details
until they taste
like moss, or earth
soaked by rain
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
The Explosion of September 19, 1951
he lost himself, the moment the explosion took his breath away
a flashpoint; he saw his future unravel beyond the window frame
lost himself as smoke smudged the sky orange and grey
sepia and silver nitrate, time-stained and measured by yesterday
a newspaper photograph of the accident; a toll: the dredge’s claim
he lost himself, [...]
Recently, I found myself asking NYC blogger Maud Newton :about the way she might approach writing a profile of several writers.
This is a Wordle of the poem posted here: http://valeriebeanonline.biz/2010/06/06/theory-of-illumination/
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Eleven years in the making, his mistress
grabs the night. Eyes down, she holds out
a piece of meat cooked; he eats
from her fingers. Ceramic plates, fractured
in the trash bin, breakfast eaten in a hall closet.
She pushes his voice under water, listening
with an unforgiving shrug, blinks her way
through dinner parties. Each night she falls asleep
to the music [...]
Like many creative writing hobbyists, too often I have to put personal projects on hold in favour of paid work. For me, paid work means professional writing assignments.