by John Mauldin
First published 2017
The poet returns with his third collection of verses composed entirely on his mobile device. He taps out lines about scaling heights and wooden boxes, about theft and deep red wine that stains. His fingers shake as he types about swearing and trembling, about parents who have lost their minds. He captures the mundane moments that fill each day, the small deaths that accumulate, the sudden explosions of feeling that catch him off guard. The poems emerge from a year of observations, brief and accessible pieces that he hopes will connect with readers. He admits the whole project might be chaos, that he himself might be falling apart, but he offers these fragments anyway. The verses pile up like evidence of a life lived in motion, thumb-typed confessions that blur the line between sense and absurdity.
Genres: literary-fiction, contemporary, poetry, 21st-century
Vibes: intimate, lyrical, thought-provoking
Tropes: fragmented-narrative, slice-of-life
105 pages · Paperback · Independently published