Published by The Puddin’head Press
Stapled Chapbook, 43 pages
8.5 x 5.5 inches, 2014
$7.00
Gregory Curry’s new collection of poetry “Gently Broken” feels as much at home on the streets as it does in a coffeehouse or lecture hall. Curry uses the rhythm of performance poetry to make sense out of daily chaos. These poems stay with you long after you read them. – M.C. Rydel, Senior Lecturer, Loyola University Chicago
Greg Curry is trying to make whole a broken world, but his words bring attention to the beauty that lies in the fracture lines themselves. – Rob Hendler, Founder and Producer of Poet at the End of the World Podcast
About Gregory Curry
Gregory Curry was born and raised in New Jersey. He graduated from Ramapo College of New Jersey with the intention of going to law school. After graduating he lived in Florida for three years pursuing a living in the arts. Upon coming to Chicago he was homeless for several months, using most of the day to write in parks and various benches. Once back on his feet he quickly became involved in the poetry scene volunteering for Chicago Slam Works. Mentored by Marc Kelly Smith, his first book was published by Generationless Publications. Since then he has joined the staff of In One Ear open mic as well as started producing his own shows Scene and Heard Open Mic: The Elevator Sessions, and Caffeinated Confessions. In addition to producing shows Gregory is a regular performer at numerous shows in Chicago and was recently on the television show StreetScene featured in the Streetwise magazine and interviewed on James Gordon’s internet radio show GPA Talks Everything.
Contents
Gently Broken
(Growing) Up
Nerd
How To Be A Boy
Forts
Ties
That Night
Destinations
Excuses
In Tongues
Crafted
Grips
Positions
Jazz
Return Policies
Winter
Bare Feet and Prose
Sample Poems
Gently Broken
It is the diagnosis
The habit
Of the addict
To love what will kill you slowly
To kill slowly
What you love
To hold the gospel
Of broken toys
Things that break gently
Sometimes fall to pieces
Sometimes
Fall away
Sometimes
You need your hair held back
You loved time pieces
And vomiting
Anything to keep yourself thin
Coming home
Once again
To a suicide note via playlist
On the computer
I’m sorry
Christ is off on business
I’m the only one here
I held your hair back
In my earlier years
I played the full bass
The cello
And acoustic guitar
The hollow bodies
All produced a great sound
But were empty
I gave you a silver ring made from a spoon
Still you would drink but not eat
When I threw up you combed the vomit
From my beard
As I slept
Those were actually the simple times
The days of unemployment
Before the food stamps
Before surviving in cars
Before standing in breadlines
(yes, these still exist)
As many discussions
As we had had about Kafka
About Camus and communism
We still hadn’t learned
The difference between
Survival and living
Darwin Jack Daniels and Dadaism
In dive bars In New York
Cafes and coffee shops
In New Jersey and Eastern Europe
A few AA meetings in between
With countless anti depressants
swallowed somewhere in between
I took black and white photography
Of our skeletons
And afflictions
As the devil
Stared at us in mirrors
From the bottom
Of shot glasses
With teary eyes
Over desks in college lecture halls
Strings of out of tune guitars
As the crow flies
As the junkie persists
As the lives gradually improve
Whispering ourselves apart
Telling us to go one more time
One more time
One more time
How many do we know now that
Are dead from such convincing a statement
It is the diagnosis
The habit
Of the addict
Many claim that people
Are no more than play things
Of the gods
Some toys can’t be fixed
We both still are here
With style-able hair
With fully pose-able limbs
But other parts are broken
Some nights I think we able to sleep
Only
Comforted by the fact
That we have the strength to break something
It decomposes
Piece by piece
Gently broken
The trust
To hold back the hair
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