Love in a Time of Robot Apocalypse

Love in a Time of Robot Apocalypse

by David Perez


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Love in a Time of Robot Apocalypse by David Perez

In his debut poetry collection, Love in a Time of Robot Apocalypse, David Perez takes snapshots of a world under collapse to show us the parts worth saving. His images activate a new way of seeing. The mundane is no longer insignificant- the nightmare no longer insufferable. Animated and imaginative, the poems salvage memories from the wreckage of the Challenger disaster, drink shots with the poltergeist haunting the local dive bar, and resurrect the wisdom in the harsh words of departed lovers. At times, Perez is terse and pragmatic. Love in a Time of Robot Apocalypse beckons us into dark corners in ways that let our eyes adjust, revealing a splendor we would have otherwise surely missed.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781935904243
Publisher: Write Bloody Publishing
Publication date: 04/15/2011
Pages: 120
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.30(d)

About the Author

David Perez has toured in over 25 cities throughout the US and Canada both solo and as half of the eclectic poetry duo The Pincushion Orchestra. He represented San Jose at IWPS 2008 and NPS 2009 and coached the 2010 Santa Cruz Slam Team. A leader in youth literary arts education, Perez has taught youth poetry workshops with authors Mike McGee and Anis Mojgani. In 2008 and 2009 he coached San Jose's Youth Poetry Slam Teams. His work has appeared in The Red Wheelbarrow and in public art at San Jose's Mexican Heritage Plaza. He holds a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Goddard College.

Read an Excerpt


by David Perez

I think about you when real life is filled with bad dialogue.

During work and repetitive sex, my attention drifts to you.

Together we have learned how to give

exactly as much as we receive.

I share a balmy room with you

and we cut the air

as if we think something will bleed from it.

There is a way of fearing age and fading beauty

that only comes to men without children

on quiet nights when the rent is paid.

I am tired of spitting into the wind and feeling only air.

We may never know the results of our kind words.

Our arias will float over the heads in the crowd.

But you travel at a certain speed,

repeat an exact number of times.

When we are together, you comb laughter from the hills.

When we are apart, I remember your burn

real as a wish in a fountain.

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