Vanessa Kittle was born in 1973. She lives out on Long Island with her kitten, Sombrero. A former chef and lawyer, Vanessa is now an English composition professor. She published 2 collections of poetry in 2006: a chapbook called Apart, and a full-length book called Surviving the Days of the Empire, both with The March Street Press. Three more collections are forthcoming in 2008. Her work has appeared in The New Renaissance, Nerve Cowboy, Limestone, Ibbetson Street, and A Generation Defining Itself anthology. Vanessa edits Abramelin, the Journal of Poetry and Magick.
(untitled from Fleas collection - which is a collaboration with a young woman from Australia called, Fish) the girl walks into her backyard she hasn't washed her hair because it smells like pollen and she is hoping to attract secret bees to come live in it bees to dive into brushes filled with pollen dust and spices rum and rusted things strange bees who love an old car and washing machines in the back yard a dresser that is used for potting plants with paint flecking off white flecks on green grass and a bathtub for taking baths under the stars flaking paint on old wood unwashed hair perfect nests for strange bees stranger than vines strangers in vines she has no shame anymore limestone roads and tupelo honey the girl steps onto the road with white and powdery steps she carries a bow and arrows to shoot reasons she has no use for them anymore only bees and honey bears and trees bees and flowers the rest are just seeds saved for spring (the following are from the collection Double Feature which is a collaboration with Lo Galluccio) Invincible These words are about a football movie. They have grease under their eyes and bloody knees. They are drenched in sweat and mud and look like they've broken their nose. They will never be fancy with morning glories wilting in the August sun. But they have heart and character. They get up and run 5 miles every morning with little hope of ever getting onto the field. A fair chance is all they want and all they deserve. These words are for all those other silent words who will never get on a page, will never be read, but which have more heart and character than any Waste Land. These words are about a football movie watched with tears streaming down my face. Fried Green Tomatoes If I was a salmon you could be a bear. I wouldn't mind your teeth. You could eat me whole and drink from the river. And later, in bellies, new love would grow. And there will be honey flowing – enough for bears even after a long hibernation. Bears will charm the bees out of their entire comb. Their paws all sticky, their noses nuzzling, ignoring the stings, devouring the sweet. As storms prowl miles away sun still shines here hot and humid on tongues licking paws Thunder growls and rumbles caged animals pace sky is lusting for land rain will be fingers rain is love making like honey bees sharing love not hording it in hives they don't need all that honey anyway rain is what happens when a rubberband which has been pulled very tight finally snaps