"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


Sample Poems


The Beat Goes On (Courtesy Rattle)
Franz Wright Comes To Starbucks (Courtesy Muddy River Poetry Review)
Gold Star (Courtesy Barefoot Muse)

The Rag - Myles Gordon      - Published Courtesy Tebot Bach

Scrubbing the floor by hand
between stove and sink,
I see I am using
a rag made from my wife’s
old flannel nightgown:
wallpaper pattern -
purple flowers on green
stems against off-white
cloth – threadbare,
the scoop neck
that hung from her shoulders so
comfortably for so long -
was there ever a night
she didn’t wear it?
I can see her taking scissors
to it, laying square after square
on the armrest
of the living room couch
by lamplight, meditative
in her reading glasses
her legs curled
beneath her, a mug of
coffee at her hip.
The cloth is supple and
soft as I dampen and squeeze it
over the bucket,
water running
down my fingers
to my wrist,
a warm trickle to my elbow.
What part of the nightgown
was this? Where did it press
her body night after night?
Is it the same swatch I stroked
lightly so many times,
the curve of her hip, so
lightly, so lightly as she slept?

                        


YOU DON’T WANT TO GO - Myles Gordon        -   Published Courtesy Tebot Bach
                                                                                                                                   

When you go to the Newton-Wellesley Hospital
you don’t want to go to the west wing

when you go to the west wing
you don’t want to go to the fourth floor

when you go to the fourth floor
you don’t want to go to the oncology unit

when you go to the oncology unit
you don’t want to talk to Dr. O’Connor about your mother’s tests

when you talk to Dr. O’Connor about your mother’s tests
you don’t want to hear malignant

when you hear malignant
you don’t want to look at her in bed small and frail

when you look at her in bed small and frail
you don’t want to think this is my mother

when you think this is my mother
you don’t want to leave the hospital

when you leave the hospital
you don’t want to go out into the cold November night
you go out into the cold November night