poem index

sign up to receive a new poem-a-day in your inbox

About this poet

Born on January 1, 1966, CAConrad describes himself as "the son of white trash asphyxiation whose childhood included selling cut flowers along the highway for his mother and helping her shoplift."

He is the author of numerous collections of poetry, including ECODEVIANCE: (Soma)tics for the Future Wilderness (Wave Books, 2014); Philip Seymour Hoffman (were you high when you said this?) (Worms Press, 2014); A Beautiful Marsupial Afternoon: New (Soma)tics (Wave Books, 2012); The City Real & Imagined (Factory School Press, 2010), with the poet Frank Sherlock; and The Book of Frank (Chax Press, 2009), recipient of the Gil Ott Book Award. He has also authored a book of nonfiction essays, Advanced Elvis Course (Soft Skull Press, 2009).

Poet Eileen Myles writes, "[CAConrad] always argues (from the inside of his poems) for a poetry of radical inclusivity while keeping a very queer shoulder to the wheel. His kind of queerness strikes me as nonpolarizing, not intentionally but because of the fullness of his exposition, a kind of gigantism that seems to me to be most deeply informed by love, and a tenderness for the ravages and tumult of existence."

CAConrad's honors include fellowships from the Banff Art Center, Lannan Foundation, MacDowell Colony, Pew Center for Arts & Heritage, and Ucross Foundation. CAConrad conducts lectures and workshops across the country on (Soma)tics and Ecopoetics. He currently lives in Philadelphia.


Selected Bibliography

Poetry

ECODEVIANCE: (Soma)tics for the Future Wilderness (Wave Books, 2014)
Philip Seymour Hoffman (were you high when you said this?) (Worms Press, 2014)
A Beautiful Marsupial Afternoon: New (Soma)tics (Wave Books, 2012)
The City Real & Imagined (Factory School, 2010)
The Book of Frank (Chax Press, 2009)
Deviant Propulsion (Soft Skull Press, 2006)

Nonfiction

Advanced Elvis Course (Soft Skull Press, 2009)

Guessing My Death [excerpt]

CAConrad, 1966
1

by choking in
11 years
4 months
2 weeks
6 days
12:18 pm

     ———

when i win the lottery
i want my legs amputated
and two beautiful peg legs
wooden of course

Frank Sherlock says it's
a very bad idea
he says i should
reconsider
seriously
reconsider

i want peg legs but
he says i'll regret it
he might be right
but what i really
want is to have my
real legs (the ones
i don't want)
cremated because
what i really want
is to scatter
my own
ashes

i thought about getting
liposuction and having
the fat cremated
but it's not
the same
because i can
eat more
delicious
doughnuts and
grow it back

it doesn't count

it HAS to be
something
missing for
good you
know

but to
spread my
own ashes is something
i love thinking about
and the cheerful
sound of my
peg legs on
Philadelphia
sidewalks

From A Beautiful Marsupial Afternoon by CAConrad. Copyright © 2012 by CAConrad. Reprinted with permission of Wave Books. All rights reserved.

From A Beautiful Marsupial Afternoon by CAConrad. Copyright © 2012 by CAConrad. Reprinted with permission of Wave Books. All rights reserved.

CAConrad

CAConrad

Born on January 1, 1966, CAConrad describes himself as "the son of white trash asphyxiation whose childhood included selling cut flowers along the highway for his mother and helping her shoplift."

by this poet

poem

—for Julian Brolaski

Sit outside under shelter of a doorway, pavilion, or umbrella on a park bench, but somewhere outside where you can easily touch, smell, taste, FEEL the storm. Lean your face into the weather, face pointed UP to the sky, stay there for a bit with eyes closed while water fills the wells of

poem

For Penny Arcade

There must be a piece of art near where you live that you enjoy, even LOVE! A piece of art that IF THERE WAS WAR you would steal it and hide it in your little apartment. I'm going to PACK my apartment TO THE ROOF when war comes! This exercise needs 7 days, but not 7 consecutive days

poem

                                 
                                  what was it you
                                  wanted us to
                                  say after you died 
it’s awful without you making sound exist
                                you said ponder this