I'm a performance/slam poet based in Worcester, MA. I've got ten chapbooks out and have recently released the second CD/chapbook of my work with Steven Cafaro, a talented electric bass player, in our performance duo, "Duende." I've read and performed all over the country, and my work has won awards and been anthologized and published many times.
I've been writing since I was in my early teens, and have a long history in poetry...too long, I think, sometimes. I'm proud to have been there among the earliest waves of slam poets and to have had the opportunity to perform with some of the greats, like Patricia Smith, Regie Gibson, Roger Bonair-Agard, and many more. In 2006, I was honored to be among folks like these when I was asked to perform at the "Legends of Slam" showcase in Austin, TX at the National Poetry Slam.
(God, this stuff sounds pretentious sometimes. I SO dislike blowing my own horn.)
In concert with friend and fellow poet Ryk McIntyre, I host a weekly poetry reading in Providence, RI called "GotPoetry Live!" We are at the fabulous Blue State Coffee at 300 Thayer Street, and there's an open night every Tuesday from 8-10, along with all kindsa good feature poets pretty much weekly. Come on down.
I'm also a musician. If I get brave enough, there may be a song up here now and again, too.
I'll be posting my gig schedule here, some sample poems, and all sorts of whatnot. Drop me a line with comments and questions, or to discuss booking me for a show (now, that would be a nice thing, eh?)
My monthly column appears at: http://www.gotpoetry.com ...
... and my personal blog, where I post a lot of my new work, is at http://radioactiveart.livejournal.com .
I'm glad you are here. Here's a sample poem for you:
there is no chance like the present
imagine the hard-luck man, brown from drink and tobacco,
reaching for the pencil to check off the keno numbers,
then dropping his dollars on the moment
when the TV screen will show his fate:
lose or win, it's a great moment while he's waiting.
or picture the son of the same man, cracking the books
and studying for the physics exam,
mind slipping toward the tabs in the bottom of his sock drawer,
calculating what he can take,
how long he'll be flying, equations, formulas,
and what time can he spare from the one
before he must give time to the other?
deciding, he falls in love with the notion
that luck is with him now and always.
for the next door neighbor, it's all good. the cats
won't eat her for at least a day yet. she lies on the floor
and luck holds the swinging door closed
against their yowling needs. in the moment before they push hard enough
she is most beautiful, face at peace, hands at rest,
quite still inside at at last.
there is no chance like the present. better still,
there is no chance except the present. the moment of waiting.
of all best worlds existing at once. of luck being not a possibility,
but a birthright. of life and death and remission
and subterfuge in the name of happiness. of the dice
coming up divine everytime.
