Bree

Bree is a poet, singer, songwriter and publisher. She is the founder of Green Panda Press, a Cleveland-based small-press publisher serving “PoArtry & Proses” at happy hour prices. Founded in 2000, Bree started making books bound in dental floss and double-sided window insulation tape. Soon she smartened up and bought a forty-dollar stapleset, and years later a hole puncher. Her hand-crafted books are constructed in the same spirit as d.a. levy’s mimeograph publications 40 years earlier.

Myspace

Green Panda Press

Agent of Chaos page

Video

Beneath The Tree
by Bree

Beneath the tree
an ark of light sails
as though through ink
:spelling a Be Here Now

upon a New Snow.
(One
thousand worms>gnats, dark things
busy
themselves upon a scheming
to make it so.)

''''Planets,,,visible''''hover,,,in'''between,,,colors

:the city wraps garland round a
busted street.

Trafficking the rush of holidays
from high a fleet of crows beak down
unblinking

toward a sugar snow.
Collecting in a snow pile
:the gradient shades
of heavy traffic
each corner
a bruise
/brown/
and blue.

The Buddha is a carved bark reminder
that this rush of days
remains
gift.

Everywhere are signs pointing to the sky/earth/foliage
and eye of strangers roaming mindless,,
(earth red brick
green ivy
roams
free.

Let us gather round a tree
and once more be moved
to Be Cheer And How!

An Axis Mere
by Bree

.walks.
=Among the houses,
the quiet of winter,
the blossom
falls
from under it=lawns
spread wretched like lemons
long
since
squeezed, and I wheeze
from the smoke, phallus in my lips
I clog then free=(
willing the purpose
(working the pulpit loose.

Walk each day a new bloom,
:churn a length and steep:
peel film from | wave meets
coarse | meets ruminary/ delinquence.

Smile at the cause of it
}causary : blow blind.

Scuff or blank on a rhythm
stepping loose leaf on a grain lit floor
whose wash is gone
or more the pace
which is the
exhume wind
,,fish obey at fins sweeping,,,,,,,,_walk meaningfully
as if on a tour
>face creep
of brick undoings/ swear its real, a gleam '
o!
saw a world unto a brow : screw drive a raw intention

sand the block in answer to a calling --just away, swear

just around that way.

o- Spin!

At the Bar | Outside Time
by Bree

At the Bar | Outside Time
;while stirring}
A jack of knife in red suede eyes the sticks,
torn open pomegranate flesh=sword piks, in a rocks glass
shine binding on a book, in bar light
.gambling.
I sit
upon a bar
and look between-read
lonesome in the dark
.nostalgic.
I trace
an elegance,
with tin curve cigarette
boxes | the fresh, unaware quality
of a doomed room

bound doom in buried stare-,go back
into;
/sip/or chew;
like irony wasn't
oR
funny ain't
oR
care. ( cute!)

(Nary a slip into the circus, whose swiped tent
bares variegated feces
wrappers
and
a constant candied red beat
upon a child excitement
never wrapped/gargled/or packaged for sale.
Flap for a passing.
Up and down go the ponies on a golden track.
Browned into the walks: sour melted cotton, pink.
Driven to a frenzy, gamblers of an unmoved face.
Animal sweat. Grease from peanuts. Toybox music
birds pink grey-against the backs and feathering
among the crowd a flutter
in urgent
and keep

stir a thought in a gin and tonic.

Takes Time, The Lie
by Bree

Mending with properties
from the modern store
,only seconds from
Like Brand New

guaranteed, for pennies practically.

Me no stock in long recipies.

Me an ape who buys the appliance,
complies to a schedule of sleep
and wins time.

Couples break apart
like good chocolate
crumbling into bites.

Divorce/death/ fire rings around a jacket

.keeping out the fresh.

Life

denied becomes the marriage
of new snow
with wizened limbs.

Little sips of cold air calm me on a walk
away from one I loved and couldn't teach
but listened to
creeping from a desk constricted by my reach----

and in the calm I hear the melody that climbs a step before me

leading to the surest death
the life complete o splendor!

The Lie. (The It Takes Time.

It only happens now!

Or be robbed.

No see gold ripening
on red, blemished
skin
blind
biting
in
the
pit, nick beauty/impair glow ….fall behind….. .

Take emanate from time( and sip on cold air
the nectar of delinquence
{breeze} take, take

then, wait and see.

Guaranteed. (By YOU!)

No money.
No Time.
No Labor.
Step into the line.=.=.=.=.=. Coursing.=La.=.de.=. die you.

"-----man lives balanced or in self defense."

Me Not Robbed me course and when into thickets me child shows through

.Not worry me.

See a wave undulate, blind wiping
Lint from lint. Me no wallet brave.

One shoe on and one shoe off

Cannot frighten an idiot)

Me no hear and me no see

I ain't got your drugs in me.

Want come play my house
,now close your eyes.

Cars, everything is periferal
Music is, is not played

Fall on bump

Waddle away.

Ideas do not stream
by Bree

Ideas do not stream
they course a walk | pond through |
the muck collects | orange fox fires
his eyes direct a lock
widening : moment
ways around, trees near
life breath drawn to sweeping
bright backfades ways back
skies spread themselves out tautly

as a wife knits or scriptures allay.
Slow spread
may glisten under lamp
or course
a main.