The Museum of Unwearable Shoes: “Simply Stunning”

“The Museum of Unwearable Shoes is simply stunning, filled with biting wit, subtle humor, insights, provocative questions and fresh looks at ordinary things that I’ll never again experience in the same way. I love the way Twaronite peeks beneath the ordinary, leaving me moved and at times inspired by what he finds there. Even the few poems whose images and metaphors I find disturbing also provide insight in how to deal with such things. Reading this book was a wonderful adventure and I look forward to going back many times to again probe its depths.”
Susan Lang, Faculty Emeritus at Yavapai College and author of the novels The Sawtooth Complex & In God’s Trailer Park as well as a trilogy of novels about a woman homesteading in the southwestern wilderness during the years 1929 to 1941.

My second book of poetry has just been published by Kelsay Books. This is my first full-length collection and includes 61 new poems, most of which first appeared in various literary journals. Available at Kelsay Books  The Museum of Unwearable Shoes

 

Three Poems Translated

Three of my poems were just translated and published in the journal Metaforología. This is the first time any of my poems have been tranlsated into Spanish, and I am honored and pleased to have my poems showcased there for a wider audience. You can read them here in both Spanish and English versions  http://metaforologia.com/somos/

Metaforología, founded and directed by the poet Ana Cecilia Blum, is a digital Magazine of Literature whose main objective is the diffusion of contemporary poems, tales and essays that demonstrate seriousness, honesty and excellence to both the author and the reader.

I love how my poems sound in Spanish – such a musical language. My compliments to editor and poet Ana Blum for her excellent job of translation.

If I Live to 120

In memory of the great antipoet Nicanor Parra, 1914-2018

All I ask is honesty
Don’t tell me I look great
when you’ve seen better
on a cadaver
And please no gifts
No fitbits or trekking poles
Give me a break
And ditch the flowers
This ain’t no funeral
Don’t buy me a cake
especially one where
a woman jumps out
but I can’t remember
what to do with her
Perhaps a splash of wine
to wet this withered throat
And tell that guy in the mirror
to stop staring at me

Note: First published in Metaforología, a digital literary magazine. http://metaforologia.com/gene-twaronite/