the poetry that matters

Bill DiMichele

Bill DiMichele is originally from Pennsylvania, and has been doing visual poetry since the late 1970s.  His first pieces were type overs done on an old Smith Corona typewriter.  In 1980 he moved to San Francisco where he worked at a graphics company, doing work on the various machines at hisdisposal, copiers, cameras, vacuum frames, printing presses, etc. 

Bill DiMichele was coeditor of SCORE, magazine for visual poetry, with his friend Crag Hill, 1982-1990.  He has been published in an endless number of small press magazines and blogs.  Bill DiMichele now publishs Tip of the Knife (motto- draw blood or go home).



It starts with a monochord
from a seed
star maps are broadcast
disperse an entire cosmos
the numbers of far distant cantatas.

Earlier searches have failed,
pointing to birth defects
and snowdomes.

See me breathing
God and Adam.


Vulgar urine
warming the atmosphere.
Swirling tailpipe emissions
bug spray
Nagasaki brain cancer
pornographic thin wasps

A pall over thou Heaven
I see steady pepper, the blast furnace spewing
and loathsome.
A solid wheel counting martyrs
then all
they drop.


Light saying
greedy terrain
cherubs hours late already.
When you die, sang Magdelena,
yet the wall continues,
referring to duration.


They're faceless
and modest
clones of
sins of
the Industrial Revolution
harmful if swallowed.

Indistinguishable end of a work shift-
pigeon blood red-
a driver gestures-
the deaf mute way to explain it.



the new clarity.


Objects are events
shadows like uniforms
image appears-I see myself
calling it time.

Between the potential and the actual
world or world
inside or outside in
we are all forced to recreate
every God dam heavenly body owing.

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                                                                                                                                     May 8, 2011