flying by


Bozicevic confronts travel and memory and the conventions of sleep (dreams), and while she certainly practices a kind of lucid dreaming, she in no way limits her subjects—a testament to Bozicevic’s organic and pristine construction of not only each poem, but the collection as a whole. Though only thirteen poems long, Document accomplishes what most full-length books only set out to.

Chris Tonelli wrote a wonderful review of my chapbook (this is Ana, peeking through the trellis). Read the rest in Tarpaulin Sky! You can also read poems from Document in Octopus Mag. Why would you? Maybe you miss me a little. I’ve been a civilian, dog-mother and worker, and a little sick, but not too bad. I’m going swimming today. Dog bless Sam Ronson and Flo Rida. Naked old men. Naked Allen Ginsberg. This should draw some traffic. Take care, gentle reader, and write me your news at anabobo at gmail dot com.

Art Celebration Poetry Pop Culture Sexy

1 Comment Leave a comment

  1. Who stamped the passports of these hordes of spring?
    The traveler’s oarless, crests on a promise.
    ” –ABB
    Reminds me of the barn-swallows, their waves.
    Your papers are in order. :-)

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