Introducing A Lost Dog

Hello, and welcome to A Lost Dog, my new writing blog. In the coming weeks, you’ll find posts here about writing craft and process, reflections on what makes a particular poem so damn moving, and news of upcoming publications and performances. Speaking of which, I’m excited to be reading soon in Columbus, Boston, and New Hampshire.

I firmly believe that today’s poetry thrives in a wide variety of cultural spaces, not just in classrooms or slams (although I frequent both), and I think these readings  will show why. There will be indoor arboriculture and custom-printed letterpress goods, an open mic, a private salon, and a DIY fest addressing violence against women, queers, trans folk, and people of color–something for pretty much everyone. You can find details on the Events page.

The title of this blog comes from a line in the poem “Introductions,” previously published in my chapbook, Safe House (Thrush Press, 2013). While I won’t generally be posting poems here, I thought I’d throw this one up to provide a little context for what you might find here.

Introductions

When I meet my voice dressed
up for a disappointing night, a mite

crawls into a forgotten megaphone,
listening. When I rummage through

the bones of a star, I meet a line who refuses
to

too break.
tooobrea.k. When I meet my voice I listen
to someone else’s. When I meet my voice,

a lost dog.

When I meet
speaking out
of turn

a voice who breathes best
by match-light.

When I meet my voice at a funeral

I did not attend.

I hope you’ll come back to this blog when you seek a kindred voice or when you’re feeling lost in your own writing. After all, we strays have to stick together.

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