Author Archives: marcogibbo

GONE

  cemeteries and ghost towns abandoned buildings the dilapidated evidence of lives lived and gone   broken glass and missing doors some swollen and jammed to the floor the rank smells of mildew and stink pigs blend like ant hills … Continue reading

Posted in Updates | Leave a comment

Cape Neddick

Red light flashes right White light flashes left A buoy bell clangs Out in the darkness Somewhere in between   The surf roars breaking Against the rocks below And underneath this constant Percussive Maine song Evening crickets fiddle along   … Continue reading

Posted in Updates | Leave a comment

Shit Happens

  Young lady, Luna Diane, this shitty gift of a black-assed poem upon the birth of your baby   girl, is sadly the best I think I can do. Of course my sister wouldn’t agree. Your grandmother   began parenting … Continue reading

Posted in Updates | Leave a comment

Quest

That flat-tired bicycle chained to the fence and rusty wheel barrow propped against the side of the house, like me flopped in this plastic lawn chair (though you better believe my wheels are spinning) are going nowhere while chickens cluck … Continue reading

Posted in Updates | Leave a comment

BLACK LAKE

Don’t go down to the edge of Black Lake, they say there’s no story beneath the surface, no moral midst the chaos of mud and weeds, no answers pulled from its depths, just a mirror of plate glass, a sheet … Continue reading

Posted in Updates | 2 Comments

The Return

I fell in love with the wounded animal in you. I recognized it across the room, and I wanted to hold you, soothe you, and reassure myself we’d be okay as a team. Which meant a friend in the fifth … Continue reading

Posted in Updates | 2 Comments

Negative Canon

Think of it, all the great poems we will never read, the uncollected gems no one tried to publish or those groundbreaking verses submitted to fall on ears that couldn’t hear their music or genius since no one had ever … Continue reading

Posted in Updates | Leave a comment

BUTTE RAT

Dan Lavelle was a poet with impeccable credentials— he was a wild-ass Butte rat bound to a wheel chair after a mishap behind the wheel involving speed, involving age and rage and alcohol, of course. His curse (our reward) was … Continue reading

Posted in Updates | Leave a comment

The Billiard Bones Blues

Lee Nye played the sticks last night, Brought his musical pool cues he’d designed himself To demonstrate on my basement table. His bones, As he called them, were works of art, and as you might guess, The son-of-a-bitch could play. … Continue reading

Posted in Updates | Leave a comment

The Old Poet Sees the White Man

                       for Vic Charlo Two stools down, two white guys rebuild – sheet rock and tape – the house they’d worked on all day, tossing back pints of Miller beer. … Continue reading

Posted in Updates | Leave a comment