Sunday, May 29, 2011

The Bens Are At It Again

Ben Fama aka Supermachine has just released Ben Mirov's new chapbook, Vortexts. If you're in BK/NYC you can pick up a copy at the release party on Saturday or at Berl's Brooklyn Poetry Shop which is where I bought my copy. You can also order it directly from Supermachine.

Here's a poem from it

For the Faint of Heart

When you return from the asylum
be sure to gaze at the trees
covered in snow. When the train

enters the forest, ask the waiter
for tea with milk. In the dark
take seriously the lesson

of fluttering hands. If it is offered
take the class they call Ornithography,
for it will surely teach you something

about love. On the subject of love
I have only a single observation--
if you love a grapefruit you cut it open

and eat its flesh. Take my advice.
Take it home to the ghost you love.
Slip into bed. Snuff out the lights.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

This! This! This!

I'm thrilled to say I'll be reading at Yardmeter this Saturday!

Yardmeter XIX, Saturday, May 28th, 7 p.m.
Please come to our nineteenth event
in a wonderful building that will soon no longer exist.

Yardmeter 19 presents:

art by
Ingrid Butterer,
readings by
Mark Wallace,
Steven Karl
and
Marisa Crawford,
and music by
Marina Zee.

All this will happen in Shelton Walsmith's studio
Saturday, May 28, 7pm.
Please bring your favorite beverages.

Location: 267 Douglass Street, Brooklyn, NY

From Union St (R / M trains): walk north three blocks on 4th Ave & turn left on Douglass

From Atlantic / Pacific: walk south on 4th Ave for seven blocks & turn right on Douglass

Tuesday, May 10, 2011



As kids, my sister & I used to keep Box turtles as pets. My sister passed away on May 7th, 2011 so here's to her! May she rest in peace.

"It's all in the subtext it was hardly known we had
the antidote to dreaming
inside the accident prone glass dolls
we are just surface that can be pulled away
an artful cover turned suddenly air
move your hand more slowly
I want to see you settle into the story
before the momentum goes dark"

excerpt from "It is 1876 When My Planet Burns Down," Karen Weiser