Heavy Feather Review‘s first issue debuted last Saturday. When I got my contributor’s copy and read the poems in them, I realized that I can’t let superstition deny the want to craft a good love poem for the person I’m with. I won’t expand on this here, because I’m going to also do something special for Heavy Feather Review regarding the matter. This will also give me better insight when I teach my workshop on February 11.
“There’s necrosis in all of us,” writes J. Bradley in OUR HEARTS ARE POWER BALLADS, channeling the morose yet resigned monogamist in all of us. But as the hero of these sleekly compact poem explosions can attest, domesticity’s death dirge might not be incompatible with the seductive guitar riffs of an unburdened spirit: “I will not think of myself / in your arms as an autopsy / waiting to happen.” Can’t argue with that.
(You can watch the chapbook in its entirety here.)
The first huge literary event of 2012 in Orlando is coming on January 31. If you are in town, you should be here, seriously. I’ll be reading my story from the collection, “It’s A Hollywood Summer”.
I wish I had more to say.