We Who Are About To Die recently profiled me in their We Who Are About To Tweet series -- writers who use Twitter.
Two new poems - On Fear / On God - are up at elimae, a journal I really, really love.
I have some new poems up at Eunoia Review. Gael I. Gael II. Sea. Untitled.
I just started reading what I think is my new favorite book by Catalan writer Merce Rodoreda. Rodoreda lived in Barcelona, and her book is called "The Time of the Doves," or "La Plaça Del Diamant." I picked up the book, its spine out inside the shelf, without really noticing any other book or knowing why I picked it up. It's strange and beautiful, because when I went to Barcelona, I became a little bit entwined with doves and their mythology. There is the tomb of Saint Eulalia in Barcelona, and it is said that a dove flew from her neck after decapitation. (She was killed by the Romans for failing to give up her Christianity.) I had known about Rodoreda before, and knew she had been endorsed by Marquez and Rios and Cisneros. Obviously amazing.
A line I love:
And when he started kissing me I saw our Lord up above in his house inside a puffed up cloud with bright orange edges that was changing color on one side, and Our Lord spread his arms wide --they were very long--and he grabbed the sides of the cloud and shut himself up in it like it was a cupboard.
