Protection by Gregg Shapiro Is Released
Gival Press is pleased to announce the publication of the debut poetry collection by pop-culture journalist Gregg Shapiro of Chicago.
Protection has gained the recognition and praise of various authors who have described the collection to a tea, for example:
“In bed with a lover in Boston, putting a cat to sleep in Chicago, hanging laundry by moonlight in Washington, D.C. I like the way Gregg Shapiro’s stanzas—packed with keen observations and physical details—place me solidly in his world. His in-your-face intimacy feels as necessary as it does generous and brave. Protection is a blessedly open and refreshingly out book of poems.”—David Trinidad, author of Plasticville
Limping Towards Chicago
This is what I\’ll do: put a bullet through my foot. Change my hair color in gas station restrooms along the way. Collect silverware, coffee cups from diners, truck stops. Grow a beard, shave it off. Leave long, long sideburns. Knock out a tooth, darken the rest with black
licorice. Pick up a dialect, roll it around in my mouth, spit it out like a seed. Lose sight in one eye, gain it back in the other. Wish on the first star, the fifth. Leave eleven different forwarding addresses. This is where I\’ll go to lick salt from my wounds. Produce scar
tissue. Confident in my disguise; recognized by everyone. Accept the key to the city, call me the Village Idiot. Try strangling myself with the phone cord. My father unwinds it, massages the creases from my throat. Crawl through thumbtacks I planted in the carpet.
My mother plucks them from my knees and palms, applies Mercurochrome and gauze. At least my brother and sister aren\’t surprised. They’re shaking their heads, selling tickets. I shrug like a city with big shoulders. The sun is so bright in the morning, I could sleep four years.
Poet Denise Duhamel states: “The stirring poems in Gregg Shapiro’s Protection offer anything but. These poems touch and say what is forbidden, possessing a fragile joy that is all the more treasured because of the speaker’s knowledge of loss. Shapiro’s voice is both freshly innovative and strikingly mature. Chicago, Boston, and D.C. serve as flawless backdrops for his perceptive insights the complexities of flawed urban love.”
The Mid-April Fool
I opened the window. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Not a sound but the sound of the street lamps hissing, “go back to sleep.” He was already gone, he was halfway down the block, underground, in the garage. He was starting the car, putting on miles. I put on his bathrobe,
licked clean his ashtray. I walked the dog up the back stairs to the rooftop. I howled at the moon, I danced like Nijinsky. Closer to the edge I chanted his name, a wakeful lullaby. Give me a chance, give me a hint. If I can borrow a dollar maybe I can buy an umbrella or a clue, a reason for staying.
Given the intensity of the Shapiro\’s poetry is no surprise that New Orleans-based gay author Greg Herren has declared “Gregg Shapiro\’s stunning debut marks the arrival of a new master poet on the scene. His work blows me away.”
Gregg Shapiro\’s interviews and reviews run in a variety of regional GLBT publications and websites. His poetry and fiction have appeared in numerous outlets including Blithe House Quarterly, Beltway, modern words, Bloom, and the anthologies Sex & Chocolate: Tasty Morsels for Mind and Body and Poetic Voices Without Borders.