“My destination is no longer a place, rather a new way of seeing.”
― Marcel Proust
Thursday, March 24, 2016
In a heap or a drift in an eye gone to sleep in a castle near flooded when the tide turns to creep and you’re swimming in sand married into the short and the sweet when wedded to the grains of the wrong man the time comes to leave him the times comes to flee in a heap or a drift you run to the sea and she gives you, the sea an abundance of ardor she gives you the free she fastens the leftover layers of you in a heap or a drift you run for the sake of your murdered past that unruly unwashed essence of you and you fly when you meet him and then sink like a sin you lie in the lonely when you are sure of him and bask in the possible scowl at the laughable in a heap or a drift in an eye gone to sleep in a castle near flooded when the tide turns to creep and you’re swimming in sand when you are married into the short and the sweet when wedded to the strains of the right man you still fill your glass with deniable fright you still fill your glass while he sleeps through the night and you say my love, my sandstorm my form my son of god I am yours in the norm with a handshake I mourn with a drunken nod life without music this language you gave me In a heap or a drift in an eye gone to sleep in a castle near flooded when the tide turns to creep and you’re swimming in sand when you are married into the tugboat that saves you on a wave of the likes of jaco pastorius on a wave that includes only the two of us in a heap or a drift in an eye gone to sleep I curl like a slug on a newly born leaf
A native New Yorker, I was born on the lower East Side before it was trendy. Way before.
Years ago, when the corporate world of magazine publishing booted me out the door, I picked myself up, dusted myself off and decided after struggling as a painter for most of my adult life that I would struggle as a writer.
The idea for my novel “A Birdhouse In Brooklyn” came from an original idea I had for a screenplay, “The Birdhouse.” While writing that screenplay—a collaborative effort—I felt my story was bigger than a movie and I began in earnest to write it as novel.
The novel is entirely a work of fiction. Names, characters, business organizations, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. The use of names of actual persons, places, and events is incidental to the plot, and is not intended to change the entirely fictional character of the work.
A BIRDHOUSE IN BROOKLYN has been registered with the Writers Guild of America, East #R20993 (June 13, 2006). No part of it may be posted or reprinted without permission from the author, Linda Danz.
All photographs, unless otherwise credited, are mine.
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