Nick Flynn

(1960 - / Boston / United States)

Nick Flynn
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Nick Flynn (born 1960) is an American writer, playwright, and poet. His most recent publication is a play, Alice Invents a Little Game and Alice Always Wins (Faber & Faber, 2008). His most recent book is a memoir, Another Bullshit Night in Suck City, (W.W. Norton, 2004). He has published two collections of poetry: Blind Huber, and Some Ether, which won the inaugural PEN/Joyce Osterweil Award and was a finalist for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize. Further honors include a 2001 Guggenheim Fellowship, a 2001 Amy Lowell Poetry Travelling Scholarship, and the 1999 Discovery/The Nation Award for his poem, Bag of Mice, about his mother's suicide.

Flynn's works have appeared in The New ... more »

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  • Gunnar Jauch(12/26/2014 2:44:00 AM)


    It's not like his songs are going to simply

    but since the news I can't stop
    listening to him

    on endless shuffle - familiar, yes, inside
    me, yes, which means

    I'm alive, or was, depending on when
    you read this. Now

    a song called Sad
    Song, the last one on Berlin,

    sung now from the other side, just talk,
    really, at the beginning, then

    the promise
    or threat, I'm gonna stop wasting

    my time, but what else
    are we made of, especially now? A chorus

    sings sad song sad song sad song sad

    song. I
    knew him better than I new my own

    father, which means
    through these songs, which means

    not at all, They died on the same day, O
    what a perfect day, maybe

    at the same moment, maybe
    both their bodies are laid out now in

    the freezer, maybe side by side, maybe
    holding hands, waiting

    for the fire or the earth or the man
    or the salt -

    If I could I'd let the birds devour whatever's left
    & carry them into the sky, but all I can do

    it seems
    is lie on the couch & shiver, pull a coat

    over my body as if it were all I had, as if I
    the one sleeping outside, as if it were my

    body something was leaving, rising up
    from inside me

    & the coat could hold it inside
    maybe a little longer.

    –- Nick Flynn
    Published in The New Yorker, Nov.25,2013

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Best Poem of Nick Flynn

Embrace Noir

I go back to the scene where the two men embrace
& grapple a handgun at stomach level between them.

They jerk around the apartment like that
holding on to each other, their cheeks

almost touching. One is shirtless, the other
wears a suit, the one in the suit came in through a window

to steal documents or diamonds, it doesn't matter anymore
which, what's important is he was found

& someone pulled a gun, and now they are holding on,
awkwardly dancing through the room, upending

a table of small framed photographs. A chair
topples, Sinatra's ...

Read the full of Embrace Noir Updates

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