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Christopher Soden, Director of the Dallas Poets Community, introduced Tim Wood's poetry at the 1995 Autumn Equinox Poetry Gala as a fusion between Laurie Anderson and George Orwell. Frederick Turner, former Editor of The Kenyon Review describes his work as "powerful poetry. Dark.... but very good."
Poetry and poetry video work by Tim Wood has been published. performed or exhibited in Rhode Island, Texas, Colorado, New York, New Mexico and on the Internet. He is publisher of an arts monthly the Word: the monthly guide to the arts in Dallas, managing Editor of Negations: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Social Criticism. He was an original member of the sound poetry ensemble Question Authority, the. His current collection of poetry, Hollow Angels, was recently published as an electronic book by the Lending Library.
You can see more of Tim Wood's work --including links to other published pieces-- at 4 til 7.
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Reflex i've I remember centering a poem on a typewriter
each line coming one after another
stuck in sequence
trapped
The words chiselled into the page
caught with mistakes
coffee splashes
and crumbs
Dust settled
flavoring the books
guaranteeing authenticity
and proving truth could be measured, gauged
Time was God
unforgiving and distant
declaring our first choice
infallible, eternal, wholly inspired
I think about memory
of centering a poem
on a typewriter
when words were never ever ever repeated
mirrors didn't reflect mirrors didn't reflect
and no one thought
about their thoughts
about their thoughts
about their thoughts
about their
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excerpts from
Westport Road, KC
Being a tale in twelve parts
Painted in snapshots Lines of turning trees
Mirror reflecting mirror
To infinity
A faded cowboy
Plaids, a stetson with racoon tail
And a worn skateboard
Shoppes and turned leaves watch
Many fire engine trips
It's arson season
Clean cut angel-boy
In a suit says, excuse me
I stalk for Jesus
Homebody raps by
L-82 rumbles past
Nothing deeper here
Parking lot full of tunes
Music flows from every bar
Sirens and escape
Its all been written before somewhere before
under the tree I
ripped off the paper tossed
the ribbon away and didn't understand
at first He said shake it
shake it and white swirls
around inside the little clear globeswirls
around the smiling plastic figure planted
at the center glued down and captured in red
and green molded plastic
set in the middle of the little globe watching
white swirl when I choose
to shake it
white from my cigarette swirls up
the glass and drifts around my cigarette
shakes and white swirls
around me planted in this chair watching
the white swirl
when my cigarette shakes
snow drifts up to the air ceiling
and swirls
around people rushing
from home are planted behind
desks at machines with schedules under
a smoldering light peering down just one eye
squinting as white papers and cigarette smoke swirl
through rooms and around the building shake
a little more as they swirl back drifting
around behind the glass surrounding
them planted here to plant
their wives children husbands lovers relatives friends
under the glass of their houses so those
lovers relatives friends husbands wives will plant
them behind desks at machines with schedules under
the squint of their smoldering eye watching
white swirl beneath the plexi sky
as they coat their children
in red and green clothes to plant
at desks behind machines under schedules so one
burning eye can squint down as the room shakes
a little and whitepaperwhitepollutionwhitedustwhite
snow exhales swirls and drifts up and swirls
back around when someone chooses
to grab the globe and shake
takes a pause from their boredom
to shake decides to watch
the red and green molded
plastic people fade
into the swirl they shake
and drift back
into boredom
again
drift again
back again
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