The poetry e-zine Dead Snakes has featured my latest poem, “Iphigenia’s Womb.”
http://deadsnakes.blogspot.com/2014/01/eric-robert-nolan-poem.html
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Margarita Georgiadis.
Annnnnnnd … my descent into the Shanty Irish Existential Vacuum continues, as my friends persuade me to try cheap cigars. (If it’s $1.50 at 7-11, it ain’t no Cuban.)
What’s next? Pot belly? Receding hairline? Wifebeater t-shirt?
I’m going to be Al Bundy by the time the Mary Washington College Reunion rolls around …
THE Poet.
W. H. Auden reads “The Shield of Achilles.”
Thanks to Dagda Publishing for the link.
“Fickle Muses” magazine isn’t exactly “fickle” if they reject every poem that I send to them. That’s more like … “Adamant Muses.”
Oh, well. They were still nice about it.
All Hail the New Flesh!!!
Dagda Publishing announced today that its next short story anthology, “All Hail the New Flesh,” will be released on January 25 for $11.99 (paperback) and $3.99 (Kindle).
The story collection, which follows the theme “technology gone mad,” will include my story, “At the End of the World, My Daughter Wept Metal.”
“From the steppe to central Spain, Europe echoes to the howl of the wolf” (UK Guardian)
A friend in Vegas sent me this link.
I can only assume it’s tough being a farmer under any circumstances, and it sounds as though they’re having a tough time of it. Honestly, though? It’s so much better than seeing this or any other animal being an endangered species.
http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2014/jan/04/wolf-pack-howls-from-steppe-to-madrid
From my note tonight to poet Dennis Villelmi:
“[A] failing of mine — perhaps my cardinal failing — is that I am fundamentally distracted by women. If God exists and wants us to be productive writers, Dennis, then why does populate the world with such fair and endearing diversions?”
“Snow Toward Evening” by Melville Cane
Suddenly the sky turned gray,
The day,
Which had been bitter and chill,
Grew soft and still.
Quietly
From some invisible blossoming tree
Millions of petals cool and white
Drifted and blew
Lifted and flew,
Fell with the falling night.
Which had been bitter and chill,
Grew soft and still.
Quietly
From some invisible blossoming tree
Millions of petals cool and white
Drifted and blew
Lifted and flew,
Fell with the falling night.
