Author Archives: Tony Brown

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details.

nps nutshell, revised

— fabulous time

— it is possible to smuggle “stuff” home during a terror alert

— lots of walking, lots of heat

— better group pieces this year, although I’m still not convinced

— BATS RULE

— parties in general excellent

— fine tag on the balcony

— highpoint: having a partner there 🙂

— highpoint: presenting the Ken Hunt Award to 3 kickass poets, and working with final_girl to do so

— highpoint: performing with folks like, well, everyone at the Legends showcase…humbling.

— highpoint: making the Tattler for the first time. now, I feel like a legend fer sure.

— highpoint: making Shappy (twosnoos) jealous with the “Snakes On A Plane” book and publication

— go Team Awkward

— Bob’s barbecue is the best

— I don’t like being home again


sunday sunday sunday

Time for the load out.

Two flights and a drive, then I’m home for two days, then Florida for an actual job.

I need some serious non-poet time. No offense, guys, k?


Update from Austin

It’s been a great NPS. I’ve got a tag going on on my balcony right now…second night in a row. Last night featured a host of good people — including Iyeoka, Chris Johnson, Marlon Carey, a guy from Richmond named Rasul, and in general a good crowd of poets trading lines and relaxing.

Anis Mojgani is the indie champ –first repeat in years.

morthsha kicked butt reppin’ Worcester, coming in seventh overall.

I’m tired, a little drunk, and in desperate need of my bed and a shower. Later, gators.


No Deal

the devil stops by
to offer you a deal:

give up all your poems,
past present and future,

and you’ll at last know peace.
what do you do?

do you run to the fireplace.
toss in your awful mounds of paper,

throw a match into all that pressure
and watch your story disappear?

do you then turn to the devil and smile
and say “now what?”

because you know that whatever the devil
has planned it’s gotta be good;

or do you turn your back on the devil,
sit back at the desk,

open a new document on the computer
and type, “now what?” for an opening line

without knowing what it will take
to answer that?

every life is uncertain, alternately terrible and beautiful,
you tell the devil,

and you have yet to write the poems
that explain that.


austin so far:

lots of old friends.

turtles, opossum, swans, grackles, and bats. MILLIONS of bats.

hot walking around town doing errands and gawking.

fresh beer, handmade vodka, and Whoopiecat’s barbecue at the welcome party which was held in a brewery. excellent beer, vodka, music, food, and general mayhem.

and now…sleeeepy.


what are these fabulous, insane birds swarming under the gibbous moon in the hyatt parking lot?


Radio silence in effect

OK, gang — leaving this afternoon and still a few things to do so I’m shutting down. See y’all in Austin.


Fire Hazard

There are days
when I’m sure
that the only way
I can short out
my memories of you
is to gnaw though
my brain cells
the way a rat
gnaws through
insulation.

I have come to believe
that the resultant fire
would be as cleansing
as it would be destructive,
and I yearn to discover
if I am right.

This is why I show you
such sharp teeth
when we speak.

I would ask you
to forgive me
but I understand
that some things,
however necessary,
are unforgivable.

Let the sparks
fly out and ignite
where they will.
I am content
to stop caring now,
to let this burn,
to allow a fire
to begin in my mouth
and spread.


NPS plan

Here’s the schedule for me:

In VERY LATE Monday night

Tuesday: Recover from flight; handle Ken Hunt Prize stuff

Wednesday: The usual opening ceremonies / Worcester bout that night

Thursday: Read in Legends showcase that afternoon (cough cough): hope to read in Indigenous reading / Worcester bout that night

Friday: Ken Hunt Prize stuff during the morning; Co-host Grief and Remembrance reading; Worcester in Semis (cough cough)

Saturday: Slam Family. party, Finals; present KHP

Of course, add associated late night partying and poetry tag into the mix as necessary. 😉


Softball at Nats on Saturday?

Anyone know fer sure? Trying to decide about what to pack.


It’s done.

The new tattoo is in place.

Mmmmmmmmm…inky.


this is the obligatory i can’t sleep post that says nothing but links me, however tenuously, to all of you even as i feel so utterly alone w/o contact.

i can’t sleep.

if ya got my number, call if you’re bored. i’m up.


What Does The President Sing In The Shower?

He rolls his r’s
and the water molecules
shake as they slide down over him
and enter the drain.

Off to the sea they go
still holding the notes.
They evaporate into the sky
and rain down upon

a soldier trying to stay dry,
a woman shielding a hungry child,
thousands of trees falling
with no one around.

The President’s song
sinks into everything,
even though
he didn’t write it;

he sings the song he learned
at the knees of giants
who lifted him up
and set him down

behind a desk, still a little
wet behind the ears, humming
to himself. When we wonder aloud
what it is he is humming,

he shuts up. Elsewhere,
the soldier goes deaf, the woman
claps her hands over her child’s ears,
and the water begins to rise

over the wreck of the forest. We ask again:
what does the President sing in the shower?
He has forgotten
the name. All he knows is that the tune

drowns out the inconvenient truth,
and that’s enough to keep him singing
in the shower, in the office,
in the back of the limo, in the night

when he wishes he were sleeping.


Here’s where I’ll be tonight if ya wanna take a drive…

“NO MORE EPIPHANIES”

Hosted By::
EBG artist market

When:
Friday Jul 28, 2006
at 7:00 PM

Where::
Vagabond Records [downstairs]
11 Railroad Avenue
Beverly, MA 01915

This gig is a celebration at the closing down of a long established and beloved independent bookstore. I’ve never been here, but the devotion the place appears to have inspired makes me think this night will be something special.


surprisingly, i agree totally

Your EQ is 67

50 or less: Thanks for answering honestly. Now get yourself a shrink, quick!
51-70: When it comes to understanding human emotions, you’d have better luck understanding Chinese.
71-90: You’ve got more emotional intelligence than the average frat boy. Barely.
91-110: You’re average. It’s easy to predict how you’ll react to things. But anyone could have guessed that.
111-130: You usually have it going on emotionally, but roadblocks tend to land you on your butt.
131-150: You are remarkable when it comes to relating with others. Only the biggest losers get under your skin.
150+: Two possibilities – you’ve either out “Dr. Phil-ed” Dr. Phil… or you’re a dirty liar.

Honestly? I think it’s less an inability to understand emotions than it is a distance from people.