I recently recorded my poem “Love Poem For Everything” through Head Room Sessions. Thank you to the always-wonderful Von Disco for accompanying me on this track. This poem is from my second collection of poetry, Hero Victim Villain.
Cover Photo: Mana5280
This winter, I was a part of Black Market Translations recording session Punketry the Album, based on the event of the same name. Punketry is a monthly Denver showcase of poets reading over punk music. My first track that came out of the session is called “Oppenheimer” after Robert Oppenheimer, who was involved in the creation of the atomic bomb, and famous quoted the Bhagavad Gita upon its completion saying “I am become death, destroyer of worlds…”
I recently recorded my poem “America” through Head Room Sessions. Thank you to the always-wonderful Von Disco for accompanying me with a beautiful cover of John Coltrane’s song, “Alabama”.
Cover Image: Luke Stackpoole
in the stale of
with a baseball bat
sticking out of the end
and bash them in the
like a zombie
terrorizing your childhood
do not listen
let the fucking
curse words shout
behind their backs.
keep their friends close,
but their enemies
(C) Brice Maiurro 2012
Cover art: John Jennings
Last fall, I had the distinct pleasure of heading to the studio of the one and only Chadzilla Johnson, where we took a few of my favorite poems from my new collection, Hero Victim Villain and recorded them, with Chadzilla accompanying me on drums with a couple appearances of other instruments. As of yesterday, those recordings have come together as an EP called “Everything is on Fire.”
I hope you’ll take a minute and listen to these tracks. One of my favorite ways to perform is accompanied by this amazing drummer and music teacher.
it’s the bones that i’m thinking about. the frame. that which goes unspoken for but consistently holds me up. there is a stream that runs through green hills beneath a harsh sun. the grass has barely started to brown, to burn. and at the far edges of this still life is a frame that holds together like a family. there is a nail that trusts the wall. a wall that trusts the floors, the ceiling. light shines in through windows. i step, lifting a congregation of bone and marrow by muscle, over and again, in ten million years of motion leading to one moment where i look outside the window. my neck twisted upward to the golden sky i look for any trace of saturn and i think to myself where is it? and i answer back to myself it’s gone.
every year on my birthday i write a birthday poem. “the anatomy of a ___ year old man.” thank you for reading.
As a lot of you know, over the last three months I’ve been running an online literary journal, South Broadway Ghost Society. One thing I’m doing with this project is an annual print journal, featuring writing paired up with art pieces. Yesterday I launched a fundraiser for the project. If you are interesting in helping out, you can find more details here.