Soul Meets Blog

So, if "Travelling in Hyperspace" was my "Writing from the Bones" exercise, then this is what I'll turn in to class today...

Grolier's poetry bookstore recently purchased 3 copies of my book, Follow the Wolf Moon. (The photographic evidence is below.) Sadly, the store is only open by appointment and Saturdays from noon to 6PM and their web-site is non-existent. However, it's the longest running poetry store in the country. Sad evolution.

• Pythagoras
• Blood and Leaves (first published on UUA.com)

OK, so, after some initial missteps, I'm working on a code of conduct for my blogging that should hopefully protect the innocent. This will morph over time as I learn from my mistakes.

Paramnesiacs

He kissed my mouth, soft as ground
under autumn leaves, yielding as burial.

He kept my eyes—the Dutch blue whorls
on china plates—to be stored away, beyond
further use, remembered in dust
and yearly polish.

He gripped my arms; it was either
limbs forgetting to hold their leaves
or else sudden recollection.

     for Robert

copyright 2006, S. Donovan Mullaney. All rights reserved.

A review of Jason Roush’s debut poetry collection, After Hours.
copyright 2006, by S. Donovan Mullaney.

The poetry pulses steadily like slow strobe lights in the crowded bar scenes that highlight the longing, loss, and lust in Jason Roush’s debut collection, After Hours, (available from Windstorm Creative - www.windstormcreative.com.) The slim collection offers one or two surprise turns in its elegant and touching recollections of the author’s outcast childhood in Ohio and rapid awakening in gay clubs of Boston and Provincetown.