Category: LB’s Non-TV Writing

LB’s Poetry: Two People Who Died By Their Own Hand

by Larry Brody

NOTE FROM LB: 

The following poem has nothing to do with showbiz…except that it owes its existence to the fact that it tells, as compactly as possible, the kind of story I always wanted to tell on TV but never could.

There were rules back in the day, about what topics you could touch and how you had to stroke them. Life and and the danger of losing one’s life were beloved by network execs. But there sure as hell weren’t any I ever met who wanted to read a script or watch a show about suicide. (Not even if it was action-packed.) Poetry, however, knows how to welcome: read article

LB’s Poetry: “It Was The Navajo Dog Took Me To The Hopi”

by Larry Brody

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It was the Navajo dog took me to the Hopi,

Their tribal enmity ignored. She said there was

A man there I had to talk to, and next morning read article

LB’s Poetry: “Just Send Us Your Credits, And Your Most Recent Samples Too”

by Larry Brody

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God was quite a showman six thousand years ago.

Look at all that stuff with Moses, for example.

The staff turning into a serpent was just openers. read article

LB’s Poetry: “The World is Full of Dead Men”

by Larry Brody

NOTE FROM LB: 

The Navajo Dog is here! In this very poem. First one I ever wrote about her but didn’t get to her origin (well, she is a kind of superhero, after all) until much later.

But now you know she’s real, in the way that all poetry is real, and far beyond it as well. My teacher, my support system, back when I first went tracking the magic from Santa Fe to Monument Valley to Pine Ridge to Chaco Canyon, and uncountable (or unaccountable) points in between. read article

LB’s Poetry: “Dancing Stars”

by Larry Brody

NOTE FROM LB: 

I’ve been getting emails from readers growing impatient because they haven’t yet met the Navajo Dog of this collection of poetry. Chill, gang. I’m setting it – and you – up.

One of the most obnoxious things about writing for, you know, money, is that those who do the paying always tell us who do the writing to “speed things up,” and “Forget the beginning. Start at Act Two.” But no one’s paying me now. read article