Submit poems & etc. (bimonthly).

pounding heels for the five hundredth time to a soulful voice baying on about the rocky road to Dublin and the scratches on the dance floor were shaped like ancient stars

The darndest thing happened. We were at Hooley´s downing Guinness to the mellifluisms of Brian Baynes and Donal O´Brien singing “I Wish I Was Back Home in Derry” to the accompaniment of magical Irish mandolin & guitar, and Donal´s dad Tommy was in town visiting from Ireland and he jumped up to sing “The Beauty From County Clare” and because my man and his mates have been going to hear Brian play for 15 years I got to meet everyone and Donal sang “for” me a song he wrote called “__ Yer Breakin’ My Heart,” it were a lovely tune really, and I got to talking with Tommy and it seems he is a poet so now he´s sent me an email promising to exchange poems with me, wanted to know if I think 80 poems (begor!) is enough for a book, and recited a political poem of his right there at the table. It will be nice to exhange political poems with someone and wipe out that lingering Bush-era paranoia….

It is sad when only silence will suffice but impatient with silence one settles for words’ shapes and clods.

Such a lucky, evening, really: I am told I pronounce “Angela” like a native Spaniard, and what else does one need but to correctly utter the names of angels? Cloaked in a good pronunciation I will proceed and to hell with knowing that which only makes me wish I had not.
ha-HA!