More Venom to Gaia
So, this is my second book, first compilation of my poetry. I've been writing this stuff for a decade and it was last year that I put it into a book and organized it for printing. My publisher didnt want to do poetry but I offered them option on my next novel and got the deal through. Currently there are copies out with such notables as The New Yorker, Literary Review, and punk group My Chemical Romance. It's not wholly inconcievable that they might be reading them too!
My poetry ranges from political to romantic to batshit insane.
You can purchase the book here for only twelve. It says 11 94 but I'm a realist in the morning. Interestingly enough I'm a romantic during the evening and an existentialist at night. During the day I lay in bed sleeping and completely unaware of the world around me. So I suppose I'm a republican by day.
You can discuss the book on the related thread in the forums.
Below are some sample poems from each section:
A Pile of Dead Books
(featured in Political Affairs magazine)
Another book added
To the great stack
Must sit idly by
Until I come back
Sorely needing comfort
Or just wise words
And the pages again
Would fly like birds
And F Scott Fitzgerald
Would for a moment return
From the vast American night
Where his spirit yet burns
Under the Shadow of the Rocks
What’s going on here?
Gotta sober up
Gotta sober up
I need to get clean
So why am I still drinking the rum?
Gotta clean up before she comes
Clean up before she comes
Or she’ll be mean
Are they watching?
Can’t let anyone see me like this
See me like this
I’d surely perish
But there are worse things that could happen
Worse ways to die
Worse ways to die.
If the floor fell out
If the ceiling collapsed
If the sky fell down
If the support of this bridge snapped
It would make an end of me
If the rocks fell that would surely be the end of me
If the rocks fell it would only take one good slab to be done with me
Mortality is a bother
And I can scarce see the paper any longer
If my pen would stop moving
I swear I’d write more
I’d clean up.
Clean up before…
Possessed
Hey you had better
You had better keep that dog off my land
Off my water
My air
Out of my hair
The both of you
Leave the vicinity
I’ve put up signs you understand
They can’t be taken down big orange lettering
They look so lovely next to the lawn ornaments
Of thirty miles
Restraining orders
That only serve to tie me down
Keep me around
Guarding my perimeter
Mines laid to destroy perambulators
Hiring guards to look like terminators
This is not the way
You really do look this silly
You old possessive fuck
When you worked all your life to get it
Just to keep others off
