Kim Addonizio

I'm the author of several poetry collections including Tell Me, A National Book Award Finalist. My latest, My Black Angel, is a book of blues poems with woodcuts by Charles D. Jones, from SFA Press. I published The Palace of Illusions,, a story collection, with Counterpoint/Soft Skull in 2014. A New & Selected, Wild Nights, is out in the UK from Bloodaxe Books.Due summer 2016: Mortal Trash, a new poetry book, from Norton. And a memoir, Bukowski in a Sundress: Confessions from a Writing Life, from Penguin.I've written two instructional books on writing poetry: The Poet's Companion (with Dorianne Laux), and Ordinary Genius: A Guide for the Poet Within.My first novel, Little Beauties,, was published by Simon & Schuster and was chosen as "Best Book of the Month" by Book of the Month Club. My Dreams Out in the Street, my second novel, was released by Simon & Schuster in 2007. A new word/music CD, "My Black Angel, "is a collaboration with several musicians and contains all the poems in the book of that name. I made an earlier word/music CD with poet Susan Browne, "Swearing, Smoking, Drinking, & Kissing." Both are available from cdbaby.com. There's an earlier book of stories, In the Box Called Pleasure (FC2); and the anthology Dorothy Parker's Elbow: Tattoos on Writers, Writers on Tattoos,, co-edited with Cheryl Dumesnil.I teach poetry workshops at conferences and online through my web site. I also play blues harmonica, and I'm learning jazz flute. Music is a good place to focus when I'm in a writing slump.

Quotes

♡emma♡has quoted2 years ago
Already I’m forgetting what felt

like a great love, forgetting that world

which for the short while I lived there

had me fooled into believing

it was the only world
♡emma♡has quoted2 years ago
So don’t pretend

you’re glad when your old friends

get lucky in work, or love,

while you’re still drifting through life

like a lobster in a restaurant tank. Go on,

admit it: you’d claw them to death

if you could
♡emma♡has quoted2 years ago
If only the river would surge into the streets,

if only a tree would uproot itself

or the roof fly off in a funnel of black wind.

Such is my life: A minute ago I was happy,

immersed in a book. Now I feel a misery

only violence could cure
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