On a recent Disability After Dark Andrew Gurza talks about confidentiality in the context of parents feeling it okay to go public about personal issues relating to their disabled children without necessarily having the disabled’s consent. Often disability seems to deny any right to privacy – if one doesn’t want to ‘go public’ it is construed as wanting to hide out of shame as opposed to discretion.

In recovery public anonymity is also important – I’m free to talk about my recovery but I’m not going to invite a camera crew to follow me around to meetings. I rarely even include people in my photos, when I do, such as at Fan Expo, there is such a crowd no one stands out, but if there are too many clear faces I have ‘masked’ them out. I even cover license numbers & house numbers.

When I write about spoken word shows I will name features, the host, but that’s it. At Hot Damn! & Capturing Fire I’m even more cautious – many are out to the room but not to the world. Besides the poetry is more important than the poet, right? Besides it saves me getting permissions.


A big part of Andrew’s discussion is how he feels the parents were exploiting their children for personal career points as opposed to creating a dialogue about disability issues. Much like a c-level celeb mouthing off about some sensitive issue they care nothing about but knows will get them press for mouthing off about it.

But if anyone thinks they can exploit me to benefit their career please get my name right – 🙂

Photos of the War

my older brothers prepared for war

by learning the intricacies of languages

and lingerie of foreign places

no one explained what they fought for

I was told the children in our village

didn’t need to know till they were older

I didn’t think my brothers were so old

they were still learning to shave and swear

there was talk of death

that I didn’t quite understand

death was a place from where people never returned

in the cathedral the bishop

called it the long sleep of righteousness

I wanted my brothers to be awake

so I could watch them gut the moose

so they could show me

how to get more than shoulders touched

in the strip bars

but they were determined to go to war

all the young men in the village

were hungry for danger

some so hungry

they started in on each other

tore each other’s flesh

ripped clothes to such shreds

even the women couldn’t repair them

these bruised men would roam

the Whistling Wood naked

chant loudly while the choir practiced

I didn’t understand war

but the hungry men in the woods

would haunt my sleep

their bruised naked bodies

danced erratically around a fire

private parts painted by flames

I wanted to join in their howling

but I was too young

I was still playing with boys

learning how to howl and dance naked

smeared with smelt guts and birch bark

we started our own boys’ army

by stomping on ants

my brothers went to war

they emailed short notes every day

“marched to Majorca”

“wet dirty sox”

“send powdered moose milk”

they sent photos of themselves

bright lights in the background

tall buildings that reached the clouds

in one of them by an airplane

they glared at us in defiance

pointed their guns at the camera

then one of them naked on a lawn

their bodies bandaged unrecognizable

these weren’t my brothers

they didn’t look human

as cracked grins of satisfaction

played across what remained of their faces

Chapbooks available:


kiss3on going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo


June 8-9 attending: Capturing Fire 2018

check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s – sweet,eh?

Like my photos? Check out my Tumblr

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