Tuesday, June 8, 2010

A short excerpt from "Sometimes too Hot the Eye of Heaven Shines"

I am thrilled to have won the first Eli Coppola Memorial Chapbook contest. Please come to my reading and/or release party in July (see "Performances" for details).

Here's a brief excerpt from the chapbook:

Child, I shall never compare you
to a summer’s day.
Sister, I do not commute by Gold Line or Red.
I do not park my Honda overnight, in an indoor lot,
with car wash, security, and valet.
Brother, I abuse a substance from which I never wake.
Restless and empty, when the Black Lite closes,
I chase the dragon in a strange and cold backseat.
Father, the sunrise writhes in the rearview
like the anonymous poet
to whom I kneel and confess I have no friends,
beside the Western off ramp—
sirens, helicopters, drivers waving over here babe.
Mother, I won’t come home tonight
for I am only junk mail and a lost credit card
without the lights, camera, action