nobody cares about the birds and the bees
or poetry

go fill out a survey and take a shot.

Anyone want to come down to Jeffersonville next Thursday to an open mic I'm holding at Perkfection Cafe. They serve coffee, beer and liquor. Let me know.

---ian

I am submitting the following story as part of my entry to LEO Weekly Booksmart Challenge, but I figured I would share it with you guys. Let me know what you think. It is flash fiction (the criteria was fiction or poetry under 325 words) and it is a parody, so please don't take it literally and get all defensive (or accusatory).

12 Step Bourbon ( Read more... )

. . . Kevin's art show in New Albany tonight. It is billed as "The Worst Art Show Ever". Artists were asked to submit their least favorite works. There is a wide variety of styles and skill levels represented in four gallery rooms. There is also live music, beer for sale, and I will be reading some poetry at about 7:00pm to start off the ( Read more... )

I have a new website up for my literary and other arts organization I have started down here. It is very new and needs work, plus a lot to be added as events and projects unfold, but let me know what you think. www.syzygypoets.com

Thanks.

---ian
360-5054
igirdley@syzygypoets.com

Poetry and acoustic music open mic this Thursday. Come share your poetry original acousic music or read works by your favorite poets. E-mail ianurielgirdley@gmail.com or comment on this post with questions.


( Read more... )

Poetry Slut

me me me

Poetry!

me me me me I

sing sonnets into her thighs

her lips part in oohs, she coos to

my Shakespearean seduction as

the crowd politely applauds

I take a seat imagining her underwear

me me me

Read!

me me me me I

yawp dance and cry

out my last poem as if my

soul had been exorcised

into the atomic ( Read more... )

Inhaling tobacco from a
stolen butt
he lies on naked mattress
(tears in the cover,
the springs push through)
gazing at the stars.

November wind whips through
the alley he
rolls onto his back
(across a sprouting spring)
to block the wind
grasps his paper bag holding its
holy desolate warmth.

Sleepy Friday Irish coffee morning ( Read more... )

She grins as if winning ( Read more... )