My great friend Nick Zaino has a cool website called The Department of Tangents wherein he writes music and horror film reviews and publishes comedy interviews.Nick put out a call for friends and colleagues to write music reviews of records he missed in 2016. I said oh! I could write a review of David Bowie’s Blackstar! As I have been listening to it on a continuous loop for the entire year! And Nick responded great, yes!I sat down to pen my review and realized I had no idea what to write. What was I thinking? So I wrote a poem instead. And Nick, lovely soul that he is, indulged me and published my poem right alongside the words of folks who obviously know how to write a record review.Take a peek for my original poem. And explore The Department of Tangents, which is chock full of fascinating items (including interviews with literally every comedian you can name, for real). Happy New Year!
12.31.2016
A Review (Kinda) of David Bowie's Blackstar (Who Am I Kidding? It's a Poem)
12.29.2016
What I Learned in the Orchard
I watched an old manpruning apple trees in Decemberladdered during snowfallstraining for the farthest branchand realized I had not consideredthat quickening is a year-roundlifelong commitment to growththrough paring back
So youbygone year of wantyou my bygone sisterburied expectationsin awful post-truthIt’s snowing
Still I ascend the highest rungand start cuttinglimbs leggily reaching for sunbecause flowering requires tendingbrings fruit for sustenanceand only now have I learnedwhat fruit from labor really meansThat man has taught me a few things
For Mama Zen’s Words Count in the Imaginary Garden. My poem went long but I beg forgiveness as frankly that never happens! :)
12.21.2016
Rattled
So the longest darkest nightalready came and wentthe lowest Fahrenheit markaccomplished last yearsooty depths of insecurityexperienced under a waxing moonin a long-ago bone seasonso we don’t have to worry anymore
File them all awayalongside the giddiest infatuationscatterings of September chicorysweet balsamic on the tonguebaby-milk breathdust suspended in long sienna raysall just under the surfacefor retrieving in discomfiting times
Sharing with the Real Toads on the Tuesday Platform, typically late but at least I wrote something! *cheer*
12.18.2016
Unpresidented
VerilyHe proclaimsUnprecedentedIs this timeGreat againSoulless prevaricationFrom he who cries Wolf
Micro-poetry in the Imaginary Garden
12.03.2016
Fugitive Justice
Preturnaturallyweepy eyes cloud glassblurring troth for triumphnothing to be realizedat half-lightMinor-chord scoreobscures understandingin endless gloamingall the sad songs are so sadthe dark places pitch-dark
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