You are invited!

WHAT:

Join me and special guest Randy Foster for our next poetry reading and book signing!  Randy will be opening the event with his humorous musings about "Civet Coffee" -- a piece that appears in our co-authored poetry chapbook, Sugar and Spice and Nothing That's Nice, and I will be reading from and signing copies of my new chapbook, Bathroom Poems.  Copies of Sugar and Spice and Nothing That's Nice will be available for purchase, as well.

Following our performance, brownies will be served, as well as your chance to win a crappy Bathroom Poems prize pack!

WHEN:

Sunday, Apr. 6, from 2 to 3 p.m.

WHERE:

Howlin' Books
1702 8th Ave. S.
Nashville, TN  37203

Howlin' Books is located and operated in conjunction with Grimey's Too (new and preloved music) and features a Frothy Monkey coffee bar on site.  After the reading, feel free to browse for records or grab a beverage!

We promise it will be a moving experience -- full of wisecracks and flushable fun.  Hope to see you there!

Bathroom Poems Performance Booked

I am thrilled to announce that my next Bathroom Poems performance has been scheduled for Apr. 6 at Howlin' Books.  The reading will be opened by the dry and humorous musings of my friend and fellow poet Randy Foster, who will present "Civet Coffee" -- a piece that appears in our 2011 poetry chapbook, Sugar and Spice and Nothing That's Nice.  Stay tuned for more details!

A Letter to the Predator

My latest piece for The Space Between arts blog is up, featuring my poem "A Letter to the Predator."  Take a look!

Foul Danglage

There's nothing like
being trapped in a public bathroom,
forced to inhale someone else's
pre-fecal farts and foul finale.

Days Like These

It's taken me 16 years
to play this record again.
I didn't dare
to play it before
because I was afraid
of how much
it might hurt.

I selected it --
like a curator --
18 years ago
in the dark
on an adrenaline high.
I dashed out of
my roommate's room
and quickly -- but thoughtfully --
handpicked the album.
You were waiting for me
in the recently vacated room
and I wanted to be prepared
for what I hoped might happen --
what did happen,
thanks to Robert Deeble --
that and the months of
heavy make-out sessions
that led up to that day.
I was so high
on endorphins and young love
that night
that I didn't even care
that my body was
temporarily dyed blue
by my roommate's
deflowered futon.

Today, I play
the disc without pain,
thankfully; surprisingly --
except for the ache
that resides deep
in the corner closet
of my heart
that wonders what
may have happened --
and how different my life
might have been --
had we been allowed
to fully fall in love.

One Shot

Sometimes it takes
funerals and surgeries
to remind us
that we are not simply
co-workers and clients,
bosses and hires,
employees and employers,
customers and providers.
We are not corporate machines,
lifeless clones or drones
devoid of hearts and hopes and homes.
We are
sons and daughters,
sisters and brothers,
mothers and fathers,
husbands and wives,
partners and friends,
guardians and grandparents.
We are humans
each with one shot
at this brief
and precious life.