Check this. Five of my poems in the latest TWD. In case you're not hip on the haps, this mag is ultra-cool, turns contraries into synch. Retro/avant sassy/serious seminal/germinal. Click on this link. Go on, I dare you:
I HAVE A WRITING DISORDER
To read my review of TWD:
Neurotic Owl Rant
PS: Here is an excerpt from one of the poems, as an enticement
(Excerpt from "Land Of the Crumbling Abacus")
it was a place that knew
the slope of every woman’s breast,
obscured in succulent heat waves.
hips reared out of the dunes for hours,
their trysts undulating into guitars.