Showing posts with label there is no third thing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label there is no third thing. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

It is time...



My new chapbook NO THIRD THING is available for pre-order.  I need a certain amount of orders to qualify for a press run.  Please help by ordering now.  Because my publisher is a small press, they depend on authors to promote sales.  Thank you for your generous support, dear friends.  

Click on this LINK to place your order.  Books ship October 9, 2015.



If Whitman's poems "celebrate" and Dickinson's "interrogate," the verb I associate with Tess Kincaid's beautiful lines is "billow the poems start small, and before you know it, they're crackling like storms. Let lightning spit fire, let rain spray! said Shakespeare, and that's exactly what happens here.

David Kirby


Tess Kincaid's poetry has a touch of not only intimacy but of immediacy.  Her eye, her insight, miss little if anything. She has perfected a succinct style that reveals an experience as it happens, as it gathers meaning. These twenty-six poems evoke a web of discoveries, the way a life is lived, the metaphors of a poet's many lives poured into the reader's own. Ms. Kincaid's work offers a glimpse into the digital age, as well as into our enduring, more common condition.

Floyce Alexander


In No Third Thing Tess Kincaid goes "to the edge,/to the door between either and or" and her poems pull us right along with her.  It's a journey worth taking.  This is Kincaid's third publication and her best one yet.

Eva Tihanyi



Sunday, September 7, 2014

No Third Thing



Only so much room in a lifeboat,
half-capacity sixareen.  Bushel basket.
Butcher.  Baker.  Maybe
a candlestick-maker;
the notables cross over
in threesomes.

Synchronicities flutter in threes,
casually.  Historically informed,
hinting at world harmony;
a table of elements
that dissolves on the tongue
like rice paper, moths.

This time it's fresh;
just the northeast wind.  
Ball of string.  Buttermilk sky.
A buoyant list scrawled
on a paper kite:

1.  I am loved
2.  There is solace

There is no third thing.



tk/September 2014




Beautiful read by R.A.D. Stainforth...and a bit of music as well...