Live Nude Poems

sit yourself back for some good reading. Keep the fire stoked. Here's one I bet a bunch of you would like, Trevino L. Brings Plenty's Real Indian Junk Jewelry . Adrian Louis brought the book to my attention, and I'm so glad. Brings Plenty is the real deal. Find out more at http://www.trevinobringsplenty.com/ . Trevino L. Brings Plenty is a poet and musician who lives, works, and writes in Portland, OR. He is singer/songwriter/guitarist for the musical ensemble Ballads of Larry Drake. He has read/performed his work at poetry festivals as far away as Amman, Jordan and close to his home base at Portland’s Wordstock Festival. In college, Trevino worked with Primus St. John and Henry Carlile for this poetry work, studied with Tomas Svoboda for music composition, and Jerry Hahn for Jazz guitar.  Trevino is an American and Native American; a Lakota Indian born on the Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation, South Dakota, USA. Some of his work explores the American Indian identity in ...

This is how a poem means, goddamnit. From Toe Good Poetry In those years of your dying I remember our little green desk lamp, its chain broken so it had to be turned off & on by twisting the bulb in its socket. Sometimes it went off by itself & we’d be engulfed in the dark poverty we were born into. That was how I wanted it to be when your breathing stopped. Quick, painless, silent, poor. That is how I wanted it to be . I wanted to be unable see your face & then I could lie & tell myself I was too old to be afraid of the dark, too old to fear Satan’s python penis splitting the atoms of our soul. It’s been six years since you left. I sit beside myself, brought here to these Midlands of the mundane by the shibboleth of the Chevrolet. In the oncologist’s waiting room there are little green desk lamps just like the one we had, but these do not flicker like my health & the health of all in this room seem...