I’m very pleased to have 3 poems published in The Antonym, a webzine focused on global literature.

I’m very pleased to have 3 poems published in The Antonym, a webzine focused on global literature.
Very happy to have a poem with focus on environmental issues published in the 28th issue of Red Door Magazine.
My poem ‘The future question’ can be read here.
I’m happy to have a poem published in the Spring 2020 issue of West Trade Review.
Furthermore, I’ve been invited to kick off their 2020 Reading Series by reading my poem ‘Ordinary Wings’.
This film was created by Ming-Wei Chiang, a film director student at the Polish National Film School in Łódź.
This is the original poem.
I’m very pleased to a have a short prose poem appearing in the latest issue of *82 Review.
You can read it here: http://www.star82review.com/8.1/saborio-monkeyhood.html
Happy to start the year with a poem published in the latest issue of Panoply.
https://panoplyzine.com/2020/01/03/issue-14-winter-2020/
Look for poem: Airness
(image: detail of 'your mystery exists')
Pleased to have a short poem published in the May/June 2019 edition of DecomP Magazine.
You can read it here: http://www.decompmagazine.com/betweenhallucinations.htm
Very pleased to have two poems “A Light to get Lost” and “Word as Object” published in the 12th edition of DASH.
Very pleased to have my poem ‘Fundamental Futility’ published in the 7th issue of Bending Genres.
You can read it here: https://bendinggenres.com/fundamental-futility/
The rain poured
a glass of wine
through my lips,
solid chunks of sky
hitting relentlessly
the thin slice of dome,
my head dizzy
reciting the do-re-mi-
cascade of water
breaking into bullets
and merging then
back into puddle.
This started earlier tonight,
white stone sheets,
dense air cool by November,
darkness so natural to thought
that my eyes were shut,
whatever observes
what the eyes exclude,
silently observing
my complicity
with melancholy itself.
So the sermon of blah,
almighty course of opinion,
eternal genesis of monologue,
running never away from me,
but through me.
At this point
anything can happen,
repeat repeat,
or the moon’s light
rising as smoke
into the hair that is your,
to the night I speak,
body’s cosmos.
The rain dwindling,
at this point,
the ache can be melody –
cool whiteness of breath
entering the sore river
of the night,
this time my body of thought,
the house with the wonderful
arch to welcome pain inside.
Do I have hope?
That is,
to some degree,
the question
that draws this poem.
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