Roberto Bolano"Only poetry isn't shit."

Day 11: Inspiration from Roberto Bolaño (National Poetry Month)

Monday getting you down? Get a jolt of inspiration from one of my favorite writers, Roberto Bolaño (author of 2666: A Novel)!

I read "The Romantic Dogs" by Roberto Bolaño while living in a bookstore in Paris last year.
I read “The Romantic Dogs” by Roberto Bolaño while living in a bookstore in Paris last year.

Poem A Day

the Typewriter Poetry edition

All of April, we’re sharing Typewriter Poetry made by poets around the world for National Poetry Month. If you’d like to be featured, submit your typewritten poem-a-day by tagging #typewriterpoetry & @typewriterpoetry on Instagram.

Thanks for joining us for Day 11, Poem 11 of April 2016’s National Poetry Month!

Day 11, Poem 11

The daily poem-a-day gallery continues to grow! Take a peak at the Daily Typewriter Poetry post to read featured typewriter poetry.


Writing Quotes

Kicking off the week with daily inspiration from the wonderfully reckless Roberto Bolaño. Previous inspirational poetry writing quotes include:

Today’s Quote

Only poetry isn’t shit.”

Roberto Bolaño

Roberto Bolaño

Considering the strange and reckless life I’ve been living, it’s no surprise that The Savage Detectives: A Novel by Roberto Bolaño is one of my favorite books…or that Bolaño is one of my favorite writers.


“The Romantic Dogs” by Roberto Bolaño

I came across Bolaño’s poetry collection, The Romantic Dogs, a year after reading The Savage Detectives: A Novel. During the infamous Panmelys Mad Hatter Tea Parties at the Parisian bookstore Shakespeare and Co, I read this poem aloud to a room full of strangers from places all over the world.

Originally written in Spanish, this collection was translated a few years ago into English. The title poem, “The Romantic Dogs,” is one of my favorites. It’s an anthem to youthful rebellion, and foreshadowing the inevitable decay of dreams from a reckless spirit grown old.

The Romantic Dogs

by Roberto Bolaño


Back then, I’d reached the age of twenty
and I was crazy.
I’d lost a country
but won a dream.
As long as I had that dream
nothing else mattered.
Not working, not praying
not studying in the morning light
alongside the romantic dogs.
And the dream lived in the void of my spirit.
A wooden bedroom,
cloaked in half-light,
deep in the lungs of the tropics.
And sometimes I’d retreat inside myself
and visit the dream: a statue eternalized
in liquid thoughts,
a white worm writhing
in love.
A runaway love.
A dream within another dream.
And the nightmare telling me: you will grow up.
You’ll leave behind the images of pain and of the labyrinth
and you’ll forget.
But back then, growing up would have been a crime.
I’m here, I said, with the romantic dogs
and here I’m going to stay.



Donate to Tupelo Press


For #NationalPoetryMonth, I’m fundraising on behalf of Tupelo Press, a small literary publisher. Tupelo’s 30/30 Project is an all-year monthly round of writing a poem a day. Check out their website. You can read the collection of poetry I volunteered to write for the Tupelo Press 30/30 Project. I also encourage you to donate in my name to Tupelo Press. 100% of proceeds go to their literary press, it’s tax-deductible, and you’ll be a patron of the arts!


suck myself out the heart i give it back


Enjoying the work I’ve been steadily producing for National Poetry Month? It’s for my upcoming art book, suck myself out the heart i give it back. You can watch my artistic process unfold at