"The fact that these poems are pared-down to their essences requires the reader to actively participate in their blossoming; we must breathe carefully with our ears and bodies to hear the pauses and nuances that make these poems sing."
—Michael Hettich on Long Rain by Lenard D. Moore (South Florida Poetry Review)
Long Rain is an exquisite collection of five line poems (tanka) and short prose (haibun), organized around the elements: Earth, Wind, Fire and Water. Here, Moore expands on the rich history of African-American writers such as Richard Wright, Sonya Sanchez and James Emanuel, creating a masterful transformation of the Japanese tradition into a sharply observant and quietly defiant poetry of the Black experience in America.
Lenard D. Moore’s poems are intimate, sensuous, transporting you to the moment, making you a willing voyeur. The landscape of the south sprinkled with its people is stark and sensual, taste the apple, feel the rain on your eyelid, walk into this journey. These are delicious poems you will read over and over again, each time experiencing new vibrations.—Opal Palmer Adisa, author of It Begins with Tears and Caribbean Passion
Pub Date: November 15, 2021 |140 pages | ISBN: 978-1-7324369-9-2
At the intersection of black and white, fish and snakes, rural and city, poor and more poor, public and private, A Boy Named Boy names what it means to live out loud, Black, shamelessly declaring restorative witness as an act of resistance and the unflinching utterance of endurance. This memoir of race and survival croons and scrutinizes a sultry but sharp southern manner. —Jaki Shelton Green, North Carolina Poet Laureate and author of Feeding the Light
Pub Date: March 25th, 2021 |120 pages | ISBN: 978-1-7324369-8-5
Wet Cement at Live Worms
In person readings
at Live Worms Gallery
in San Francisco
Live Worms Gallery
A space for creative pursuits
Andrea Clark Libin reading from, Orphan of the Moon. “A living, breathing, hybrid work unlike anything I've ever read—an orphan's notebook exhumed from the Moscow station and entrusted to your own red heart.” —Karen Russell