French Handwriting in Italian (Best Erotica 2007)

French Handwriting in Italian (Best Erotica 2007)
Good news...recently Tristan Taoromino, the editor of Best Lesbian Erotica 2007 (cleis press) who published one of my short stories told me that an Italian publishing house wanted to buy the rights to my story, French Handwriting . The story will be sold to Arnoldo Mondadori Editore Publishing house in Italy for use in Best Erotica 2007. I will get 300 US dollars and they will own it for 10 years. Yay real money for Z-money! I am psyched! Finally writing pays off.

below is thee-mail I recieved:

Dear Zoe Alexandra,
Please allow me to introduce myself: my name is Rosamaria De Donatis and I work in the Rights and Acquisitions Dept of the Italian Publishing House Arnoldo Mondadori Editore. We are going to publish an anthology called "Best erotica 2007" and we would like to include your tale French Handwriting.We offer an outright fee of 300 usd, payable on the signature of the contract.Publication: within 12 monthsLicense term: 10 yearsI hope our terms meet your approval and I look forward to hearing from you.

Best wishes,
Rosamaria De Donatis

Update on my publications:

My poem, "It is You Who Hides Behind" is featured in the current issue of Remark Magazine (damn fine poetry)

Buy the issue or a subscription at http://remarkpoetry.net

Thanks!!!

Also:

"My Time, The Lunch Break Book" is finally out from Poet Plant Press and I'm damn proud to be the featured poet.
My poem "It is You Who Hides Behind" is featured in the current issue of Remark magazine:
A lot of familiar names in here! Here's the skinny:

My Time - The Lunch Break BookA book project by Chris Bodor
Featured poet: Wayne Mason
Illustrations by Jad Fair, Ashley Bobbett, and Marc SnyderForward by David Barker (author of Lunch Hour Poems)
Contact Chris for contributer copy discountsEveryone else:$10 each Check, MO, well hidden cash to:Chris BodorPoet Plant PressPO Box 861094St. Augustine, FL 32086-1740 USA
Featuring poems written during, or inspired by, the lunch break.

David Hill/ Mary Beth Bodor/ Michael D. Grover/ Linda Kay/ Royce Icon/ Austin Taylor/ Jason Gray/ Raindog/ Aleathia Drehmer/ Glenda Bailey Mershon/ Steven Seidenfeld/ Zachary C. Bush/ Cheryl A. Townsend/ Miles J. Bell/ Karl Koweski/ Wayne Mason/ t. kilgore splake/ Adrian Manning/ Helen P. Peterson/ Misti Rainwater-Lites, Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozababal/ Michele McDannold/ J. D. Nelson/ Luis H. Valadez/ Zoe Alexandra/ Mathias Nelson/ Chris Bodor

more info:http://www.myspace.com/lunchthebook


More forthcoming poems from me will appear in Thieves Jargon (props to new editor & friend Zachary C. Bush) & the Cerebral Catalyst. I'll keep you posted for when they go live!

Jaws for Taryn

Your daddy was never
A daddy, he tried to slice
Your wrists once with a shard
Of glass in your sleep

Blondie with crooked teeth
Knashing your jaw
Science fiction face
That I loved
But no one else did

And you believe you should try
To stick this one out
Until your mom moved you away

To the Wilmington, North Carolina
Where a doctor took your nose

between his forefinger and thumb
Marked it in blue pen
And struck you with a hammer
Smashed the bone into 14 pieces
And re-aligned it, Pushed
your chin back in place
Sliced it with a shiny scapel
And left you sallow yellow
And puke green on some
Blue sheets in a hospital
In a town where no one knew your name
And I loved you

Somewhere thousands of miles away
I stared down at my half-smoked cigarette
Waiting for a point
Waiting for the fire to smolder the end
Into a crooked peak
To know that you missed me too

Taryn,
You were there for me when I wasn't there at all
Even for myself
You were my backbone
When they snapped mine into 47 pieces
And pushed them neatly into place with
Titanium and little slices of my hip
When I oozed blood from my back
Dripped like a broken water tap
You were there when I lied awake
Pushing a small red button down
With clenched teeth
The morphine drip
Sending me to the third precinct of hell
(Which is not such a scary place after all)
You were there when all the voices turned to static
And my mouth turned to cinder
So I couldn't kiss you on my mouth

You were my best friend
When I didn't even know what that meant
\n\n\u003cp\>Lying in the tepid bath with me
Legs bent, back arched
Your ribs springing from your stomach
like a deer, like a creature from another world
you were so mean sometimes
mean to everyone but me
because you could see all the gashes and
the disgrace behind my eyes
all the screaming and the whites of my
gaze turning red before it even happened and I always knew you'd be forever
and never at the same time
and one day you'd be gone
I didn't know ten years later
You'd be on the other line
Of the telephone wire
Wrapped around my
Polished nail so tight
it turned purple

I need you like I need
A hole in my head
And seriously I mean
That as a compliment
No I mean I need you
To steady me on this shaking earth
All this plate tectonics has me falling
Into small cracks in the pavement
Has me dreaming of your hands
On my head
Your laugh like a catastrophe
It sounds like I could save you
You need me but maybe I need you more
You never let me lie in my own shit
Lie to myself
Lie to you
Lie on top of you
When I was too trashed to know any better
You never let me go
Even when the rope stretched so
Far and I was hanging on by a tiny stitch
You are older now

Long pale hair to your ass
Like your mom
When she was dancing
At the playboy café
1977 when you werebarely a flicker in her eye
Before the tables turned
When she was drinking a bottle of cooking cherry
Tearing out her hair
because she loved you
like no one else did
not even me because I could never birth you from
a tiny place
I could never spill

Lying in the tepid bath with me
Legs bent, back arched
Your ribs springing from your stomach
like a deer, like a creature from another world
you were so mean sometimes
mean to everyone but me


because you could see all the gashes and
the disgrace behind my eyes
all the screaming and the whites of my
gaze turning red before it even happened

and I always knew you'd be forever
and never at the same time
and one day you'd be gone

I didn't know ten years later
You'd be on the other line
Of the telephone wire
Wrapped around my
Polished nail so tight
it turned purple

I need you like I need
A hole in my head
And seriously I mean
That as a compliment

No I mean I need you
To steady me on this shaking earth
All this plate tectonics has me falling
Into small cracks in the pavement
Has me dreaming of your hands
On my head
Your laugh like a catastrophe
It sounds like I could save you
You need me but maybe I need you more
You never let me lie in my own shit
Lie to myself
Lie to you
Lie on top of you
When I was too trashed to know any better

You never let me go
Even when the rope stretched so
Far and I was hanging on by a tiny stitch

You are older now
Long pale hair to your ass
Like your mom
When she was dancing
At the playboy café
1977 when you werebarely a flicker in her eye

Before the tables turned
When she was drinking a bottle of cooking cherry
Tearing out her hair
because she loved you
like no one else did
not even me
because I could never birth you from
a tiny place

I could never spill
Diamonds from my sleeves
Onto the table before you

Diamonds from my sleeves
Onto the table before you
Show you the answers

But you are her
23 with a southern drawl
A pocket knife
And a tea kettle
You are miraculous
I am finally waking up.

Fruition (for your ex-girlfriend)

I can make her wear jeans
No, a skirt
that rides right up
over her smooth round ass

I can put her in combat boots
Laced right up to the knee
Or 7 inch stiletto hells

I can make her wear no panties
No, a bright white g-string
Because I know you
I know that's your preference

I can make her call you
Or I can make you
slowly
dial
her number
from a public bathroom
from work

I can make her answer
Sweetly
Sigh your name
into the receiver

or

I can make her a demanding bitch
Who tells you
Exactly how it's going to happen

I can change her hairstyle
But she'll always be blonde
Fuck me blonde
Bright white platinum blonde
Marilyn blonde

Since I know her voice
I can take it up an octave
Or down a little lower
Make it breathier
Make her say:
I don't even wanna fuck,
I just want you to eat me
Spread
my pretty
little
pink lips
apart,
Oh, I'm getting so wet
just thinking about it…

I can have her stop by your work
during lunch,
after hours
during a smoke break

I can have her tease you
Or
Get right to the point
Watch your pupils expand
Like wet sponges

I can watch your eyes
Study her mouth
as she applies
Chanel lip-gloss
All over her bottom lip
Using her middle finger,
Her nails manicured,
French tipped
Or I can make them
Harlot red

I can have her take
You in the stall
Or on the sink
(it's riskier there,
Someone could just
Barge right in)

I can make you lick her
Pussy
clean
like a dirty plate
or
I can make her
Virginal pink
In your mouth.

I can have her drip
all over
your face
or I can make you
beg for more,
have her say
You're gonna have to try
A lot
Harder
Than that…

Afterwards
I can make her pull
Up her panties,
pull her skirt into place
and walk right out on you
or I can have her plead
you to come back to her,
sobbing
downpour
snuffling
hysterical
tears
and clinging
to the end of your shirt.

When she finally leaves
I can have you call me up,
say you love me,
or I can make you just
jerk off.

New Sheets on Sunday for S.

I saw a man stumble to right
Himself, stand up straight
Drop his backpack
To the ground & hover
Over it like some space ship landing…

He was wasted and I was
Thinking of you
On 42nd Street
Looking into the funny mirrored
Pillars, the reflection, emaciated.
I was skin & bones except
For the bottom of my stomach
Totally bloated…
I was staring at the people passing by

Reflections like gazelles
Gaunt and lustrous magazine
style perfection; I looked back
and they were just people
fat and unloved racing to some
stupid fucking job they hate

and I can't sleep
on this dismal train
back to a city that threatens to
eat all the toffee inside me
leave me carved out and vacant
as a dented toilet paper roll

because in your bed your body is still
& calm and I can kiss you on the mouth

While you are totally unconscious & you'll
Smile and brush the hair from my eyes even though


your eyes are closed & this is the first time in so long
That I haven't felt like an
Unwanted
House
Guest


I can call & tell you that I'm okay
When I get home from the big city
Yr so pretty
In the faint light
That glows in your bedroom
Through the windows
& the street lamps

Your eyes are telling me jokes
Your mouth is a fixed hello
Your hair is out of control
You make me sentimental
And not for some memory
But just for you

I have nothing to compare this to…


I am catching feelings
And you said it first on the 7
From Queens to 23rd St.
You held me hand
Stroked the inside of one palm
Said you were scared
Of the same thing
Happening again
That some girl you used to love
Said to you that:
Your money was her money &
her money was her money
& you know That I'd get by
But if I had it could I share?
& I was dumbstruck
Defensive
Because I wanted you to know
That I'd been
robbed blind
that I could
never cheat you
that no one
ever makes me
laugh like you do
so hard that I
cough rocks
that no one
makes me
calm
as you do
2 fingers
Bent inside my
Open mouth
I'll do whatever
You want

Happy
Happy happy
Because you
Never
Take take
Take care, happy
To take
You in my
Mouth
Your body soft & clean
Like new sheets on Sunday.