☀ Today's Poem: "My Broken Tooth" Charles Kell

Today's Headline: "The First Book: Eduardo Martínez-Leyva"

February 5, 2025 My Broken Tooth Charles Kell The night my father died the Winter Olympics blared from the floating TV. They skied down through the closed-captioned snow. My father looked screwed, a spare tire under the double bed. A purple marble like a giant eye floating above his bed. I cracked it on glass, he said. His Ahab tattoo frowned under a dim lamp. Chalk in a cheek to pump down the shaky jaw. The drinker's face repeats. Somewhere in Nagano a neon sign blinks making the faux fur gleam. from the book ISHMAEL MASK / Autumn House Press READ ABOUT TODAY'S POEM Share Tweet Forward There is a sick room, a father (inertia contrasted with the movements on the TV). My influences are Tomaž Šalamun, Kafka, Beckett, and Bernhard. I’m also first drawn toward image and sound. I have no idea what the poem is doing (I’m an aesthete). I’m fascinated with physical spaces—enclosures—and how they simultaneously manifest emotional and psychological spaces. I was the happiest of my life working on Ishmael Mask… Charles Kell on "My Broken Tooth" "The First Book: Eduardo Martínez-Leyva" "The best advice I received about publishing was to recognize that submitting your work for publication is a significant achievement in itself. It’s important to be proud of taking this step because it represents a huge milestone in sharing your voice with the world. Don’t let fear hold you back, as it often stems from ego and the worry of how your work will be received. Instead, focus on the courage it takes to put your words out there. Embrace the process and remember that every submission is a valuable opportunity to grow and connect with others through your writing." viaTHE RUMPUS READ ALL TODAY'S HEADLINES What Sparks Poetry: Carol Moldaw on Drafts "In many ways, this draft marks the end of my blind groping and the beginning of the poem proper. Nothing I’d written up to that point had caught my poetic interest linguistically; my thoughts, preoccupations, and perceptions had been floating around without substance or anchor. In this draft though, images began to coalesce, and the lines develop a distinctive voice—the poem’s voice." READ THIS WEEK'S ISSUE donate View in browser You have received this email because you submitted your email address at www.poems.com. If you would like to unsubscribe please click here. © 2025 Poetry Daily, Poetry Daily, MS 3E4, 4400 University Dr., Fairfax, VA 22030 Design by the Binding Agency

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