Saturday, April 19, 2014

2014 Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Award




I am awed and deeply grateful that the Ohio Arts Council has granted me an Individual Excellence Award for 2014. To receive this kind of recognition for my writing is incredibly meaningful, and I am thrilled and honored. This kind of support is especially inspiring in terms of bringing my novel to completion and looking ahead to future writing projects.

Many thanks to the judges and the OAC Board and everyone who supports the arts in Ohio and beyond!

Poetry/Prose Exchange - # 3

To be honest, no other exchanges have arrived.  And so, I'm continuing this series on my own.  Not all by my lonesome, but in the company of words.

The poetry of Susanna J. Mishler is on my mind today.













"What Fits Neatly in a Hand"

A pebble. An earring. A stack
of dimes. A little water,

and the reflection of something small
or distant in the sky.
A toy fighter plane.

Not a live goldfish, but a dead one.
Not the other hand--
not completely.

A matchbook, a moth. A cupboard hinge.
A tooth. Pieces

of broken things, wristwatch gears,
plate shards, ashes. The curve
of an infant's head.

Crumbled plaster. A chipped button
sewn to a shirt scrap.
An ice cube--briefly.

Not the curled edges of burning paper.
Not an aspen, but a lemon seed.

The opposable thumb. Two aspirin.
Some sand--barely.


- from Termination Dust -  by Susanna J. Mishler  - Red Hen Press, 2014


Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Poetry/Prose Exchange - # 2

And here is the first of the poetry - not just a line, but an entire poem! And now I am a serious fan of the poet, Denver Butson.












what she was wearing

this is my suicide dress
she told him
I only wear it on days
when I'm afraid
I might kill myself
if I don't wear it

you've been wearing it
every day since we met

he said

and these are my arson gloves

so you don't set fire to something?

he asked

exactly

and this is my terrorism lipstick
my assault and battery eyeliner
my armed robbery boots

I'd like to undress you
 he said
but would that make me an accomplice? 

and today
 she said I'm wearing
my infidelity underwear
so don't get any ideas


and she put on her nervous breakdown hat
and walked out the door


Poem: "what she was wearing," by Denver Butson, from illegible address. © Luquer Street Press.