Thursday, December 30, 2021

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

Happy New Year, Happy Reading!












Looking for ways to stretch your mind and imagination in the new year? These two wildly creative collections will get you there!


The Catalog of Small Contentments by Carolyn Martin

The Poetry Box, 2021


Carolyn Martin has done it again. 

In her sixth poetry collection, her words prance, dream and and sing. Through conversations with the sky, musings about Monet, and appreciation for an antic ant that offers critiques of Martin's writing, we enter a world that's both imaginative and also entirely relatable. The collection includes heartrending poems such as "Music to Disappear By," in which her dying father asks her "to record/his melody before it disappears," as well as the bouncy, life-affirming "Dear Type-A Friend," where Martin asserts she's "newly funemployed" and plans "to gadabout" a universe full of infinite possibility. 

To purchase a copy, you can click here.



Callie Comes of Age by Dale Champlin

Cirque Press, 2021


Think you don't like poetry? Think again. This pageturning coming-of-age and character-driven thriller redefines the meaning of what poetry can be. With a gutsy heroine and a rugged landscape that's so vivid you can smell the sage and feel the "dry heaves of hills," Callie Comes of Age took my breath away. Dale Champlin, who has always struck me as being a magician as much as a writer, fills her book with a dark secret, a sense of danger and delirious pleasure.


You can purchase this novel/poetry collection here.

Monday, December 27, 2021

The Poetry Box LIVE

 I'm looking forward to joining these amazing writers for a reading on January 8!



Monday, December 13, 2021

Holiday Romance

 



Santa Meets the Tooth Fairy*

 

They meet at a party

and the attraction is instant,

surprising them as much as anyone—

what, with his wide-belted girth and crinkled eyes

and her spun-sugar hair and silver-veined wings.

Within moments of being introduced, she takes his hand

and leads him to a moonlit room, empty except for a bed

covered by a single snowy blanket. Softly,

he shuts the door, and the floor tilts

under her dainty feet.



They share a sense of humor about their situation.

When he promises not to take her on his lap

and ask her what she wants,

she trills, then touches his cheek,

sending small licks of flame through his frost-bitten skin,

even before her fingertips travel

under miles of plush red velvet

to feel his heart beat.


Afterward, he says he'll drive her home,

but she straightens an iridescent strap on her slender shoulder

and reminds him she still has work to do.

One last kiss, and she’s gone,

so quickly he feels like a boy

who’s just learned his toy train came from the mall,

not the North Pole.



Later, as she’s lifting the pillow of a sleeping child,

she catches the scent of soot and scotch and pine trees on her skin,

and she, who always works in silence,

hears a sigh

escape from her own ribs.

At the same moment, he’s riding across the sky

with a pair of soft leather reins in his hands

when he’s suddenly engulfed

by the fragrance of an orchid that blooms

just one night a year.


"Santa Meets the Tooth Fairy" was originally published in Fiction at Work