Gene Tanta was born in Timisoara, Romania in 1974, immigrating to Chicago in 1984 with his family at the age of 10. He earned his MFA in Poetry from the Iowa's Writers' Workshop in 2000. Rather than finishing a second MFA (in Painting and Drawing) he went to Mexico to draw people's heads and act as an international observer on the Zapatista bus caravan in 2000. He translates contemporary Romanian poetry. His publications include: Epoch, Ploughshares, Circumference Magazine, Exquisite Corpse, Watchword, Columbia Poetry Review, The Laurel Review and two collaborative poems with Reginald Shepherd anthologized in Saints of Hysteria: A Half-Century of Collaborative American Poetry. Currently, he is a doctoral candidate in Creative Writing (Poetry) at the University of Wisconsin at Milwaukee where he also serves as Art Director for Cream City Review.
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pale murmurs dark yards
the wind doesn't freak you out
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to skirl to cross
there were plenty of slits in her dress
for consuming and song
for alongside everything's char
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to stir to slur
before her wide mouth
even some wood smoke thawing up
never mind the darkening
the climb in climate
the underfoot-loud twigs of proverbs
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a whale of a moron
a crow never looks back on
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how many rainfalls
will it take to get you back dear ratio
to stream awnings together for example
to splinter light
to hang-up in your face
above the square-jawed mumblers of yore
to peel livers apart
to rewind a voice and to delete it
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don't forget to pay for love
to tip the caddy
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you have to crack a few skulls
to make a revolution
otherwise who will remember
to millstone your syllables
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to lightening you rock to thunder you tree
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some mother's gait to prove
clenched teeth
to open to wail
to knife and to diversify
his closed-captioned way back home
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a bullwhip's spine is all rigor-n-snap
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to shoelace a buck's eye to your guidelines
for a cadence
and to wear sunglasses in movie houses
to fast the patriarch to bluestone
like hysteria-cries in the target-language
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wayward tonnage snap-fades dear ratio
love has its strain fractures
and leaks milky
in broken singsong curses
to the skies in overalls and hardhats
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noises gather
to say nothing
and to smoke