"Inside The Splintered Wood is tender and deeply human. Myles Gordon is simply an outstanding poet." - Kathleen Spivack, author of With Robert Lowell And His Circle

"Inside The Splintered Wood is a very funny book. But don't take this poet lightly. He'll be the one telling the "joke of utter humanity" when the place blows up."
- Natasha Saje, author of Bend

"...The debut collection from Myles Gordon is at once brave and ravenous; an embodiment of love starved for itself."
- Brendan Constantine, author of Calamity Joe

"A remarkable sonnet sequence lies at the heart of Myles Gordon's brave collection about family and history and the resulting wounds and recovery. "
- Jennifer Barber, author of Given Away


Monday, October 28, 2013

Two New Poems

I'm glad two say I have two new poems out. One has an odd title: "Franz Wright Comes To Starbucks" and appears in the wonderful Muddy River Poetry Review - view the poem here

The other has an odder title, "Anne Frank In Space," and appears in Poetica Magazine, a journal of contemporary Jewish-themed poetry, available at this link

Please check them out!

Monday, October 21, 2013

Louisa Solano Poetry Series

Wonderful reading upcoming. David Ferry at the Cambridge Public Library


David Ferry Poetry Reading
Louisa Solano Poetry Series
Tuesday,  November 5, 2013
6:30 p.m.
Cambridge Public Library
449 Broadway, Lecture Hall
Cambridge

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Boston Book Festival

Great event coming up this weekend. The Boston Book Festival. Many events throughout Greater Boston found here:


Please make sure you check out this event THIS SUNDAY: Zvi Sesling (“Fire Tongue”) and Paul Steven Stone (“How To Train a Rock”) read at 12 noon at Plymouth Center for the Arts, 11 North St., Plymouth

Zvi is a fabulous poet, and also runs the Muddy River Poetry Review, a wonderful online magazine.

Friday, October 4, 2013

A Blessing

Haven't written a post in a while. Was actually been in the hospital for five days with a weird condition called "orbital cellulitis," a sinus infection that spreads into the eye socket. It hit me the Friday night the Red Sox clinched the eastern division. Here is the narrative I emailed to someone while in the hospital:


"The night the Sox clinched first place in the division I was checking into the urgent care room for my HMO because one of my eyeballs was frozen in place, and my eyelid was blown up like a balloon. It was Friday, about 5:30, when I put the call into my plan. The usual office that sees me was full - no appointments left. The only center with an opening was located at 133 Boylston Street - as in directly across from Fenway Park. So there I was, in no way fit to drive, maneuvering past pre-game yahoos to get to the parking garage (I was unable to turn my head to the left at this point - not fun on a street full of revelers - most of whom I assume began drinking early). I made it to the appointment where after five minutes they determined I needed to hit the emergency room at Mass. Eye and Ear. They convinced me not to drive and called me a cab. After meeting the triage nurse, I sat moaning and groaning, a blanket around my shoulders and one on my head to shield me from the light (I was pretty sensitive to light). Finally inside, a few tests by the eye doctor revealed to him I needed a CT scan. By this time, my wife had secured someone to watch the kids and came and joined me. Finally, in the outer area, awaiting the CT technician, I caught glimpse of Channel 5, where sports anchor Mike Lynch was on field interviewing David Ortiz, who seemed mighty happy. Though really only adept with one eye, and not close enough to hear the TV, I surmised the Sox had clinched. Now here I am, in room 1129 of Mass Eye and Ear, two days later, on heavy doses of antibiotics. Apparently a severe sinus infection spread to the front and back of my eye. So I was indeed next to Fenway Park, if only briefly, for the clinching game, and my Honda Accord was parked across the street for the whole thing, and whatever post game celebration that followed. It is safe to say that I will always remember where I was for this momentous occasion."

Anyway - out of the hospital, and it's a blessing that all seems to be calming down physically, and that the Sox have come so far. So I close with a great poem, "A Blessing," by James Wright.


A Blessing – James Wright

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness   
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.   
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.   
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me   
And nuzzled my left hand.   
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.