Aprille Best GLOVER_________________Book Projects

Be A Friend,Children With HIV Speak

edited by Lori Wiener, Aprille Best, Philip Pizzo

 

I'm deeply proud to be associated with this project. This book is a compilation of stories and drawing by children about living with HIV. A history of the early AIDS epidemic in America from a child's point of view. No self-pity and straight from the heart. Buy a copy and support the Pediatric AIDS Foundation.

Curved Down A Split Middle: Clues and Haiku

written and illustrated by Aprille Best Glover

 
 Like the title, my creative work is split down a curving middle. As an artist, I constantly find myself trying to reconcile opposing and complimentary forces. This open edition artist book seeks balance between words and images without either overpowering the other. It is also the balance between the life of the mind and the lush reality of the senses. Obliquely referring to that famous symbol of dynamic equilibrium, the yin (masculine) yang (feminine). The second half is composed primarily of haiku,a poetic form that combines strict formality with direct experience. To order a copy from the Artist

excerpts from Split Down A Curving Middle

Wetware

I do not sing the body electric
I sing the body virtual
I chant the chant of the broken ladder
I dance its dance in a technology of my own devising
I'm not afraid of data or delight

Fax me some satisfaction
A digital burst across phone lines
Send desire in discrete packets of information -
in protocols Byzantine and enigmatic
Modulated on a carrier signal of such a high frequency that it
sounds like sharp guttural impossibly high gasps
A uncertain whale song that vibrates unobstructed thru this virtual
reality into an absolute night

Fax me some satisfaction
Time is of the essence now,
Weave a magnetic pattern of zeros and ones to wrap around my
senses before the the fiber optic cable that runs between your
eyes and mine overloads, twists, and breaks in to shards
of glass thinner than a human hair...

Escape Velocity

Last chance to say hello to that beautiful stranger with the dark sunglasses his lips compressed, shoulders rebelliously slouched- already walking out of the store.
Last chance to drink espresso in Tangiers, to make deals with rich Arabs.
Last chance to join the mafia.
Last chance to revert to childhood.
Last chance to buy a Mickey Mouse Watch.
Last chance to take up jogging.
Last chance to switch from yellow mustard to brown.
Last chance to give up caffeine and sodium and Smirnoff.
Last chance to be filthy rich; to smash up limos and hotel rooms.
Last chance to sell my car.
Last chance to bicycle through Germany, resurrect my ulcer, and develop leg cramps
Last chance to make love to an idea, legs up, everyone undressed.
Last chance to vomit up my fear, spread-eagled on the pavement, broken engine still running, pint of blood seeping into the asphalt.
Last chance to decipher the conversation at the next table over, cold coffee stains on her teeth.
Last chance to cry in a theater bathroom stall.
Last chance to count calories to three places past the decimal.
Last chance to avoid a 1% late payment fee on my phone bill.
Last chance to watch the cars go by, to look at the clouds lying low and heavy like udders.
Last chance to hope it doesn't rain.
Last chance to smash all my dishes against the wall, to cry hysterically for mother.
Last chance to join the Communist Conspiracy or the Watercolor Society.
Last chance to hop a ship bound for China.
Last chance to read a good book.
Last chance to blow on a dandelion and make a wish.

From Clues and Hiaku Section

the gray veined water
pulses quietly
we both wait for rain

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