A.Z. McCoy
A.Z. McCoy Poems
In our stormy cove
Nightwind howling waves 'cross
silent, praying rocks
A battered roughness
...
A flame lasts a short time
A dream lasts portions of a night
Handheld devices last five years or so
With how the airwaves blow,
...
Don't need a mirror
In a tired, desperate clutter
Tightest of windowless submarine spaces
Realized
...
Pixel, pixel, shooting far
Surmising dreams
In unreal/
Savage, electromantic pastels
...
Swirl of light and dark
Divided diaphanous murk, this land
Cairns of silt and windblown sand
Through lonely hours
...
The plague reached shore long ago
Fed on air, fast food, and movies
And found legs in the dreary rock bottom
Musicians loved it, it made them feel notes
...
How far Nostalgia walks,
Her Bouquet held to chest,
In slow stride across
Time-dusted floodplain,
...
Once I saw a girl
Her smile swept
Along a song
Of plucked harpwire,
...
The clockwork on dawn's ancient levant
Stretches shadows taut
along earthen galley broadsides
The cosmic carousel, this blue and green rock
...
Who made these patterns of night and day,
Strung moon to earth and earth to sun,
Catapulted voices from mountain to ravine
If it wasn't in your eyes, would you tell me
...
Please don't read as a poet
But as a long-lost friend,
Unseen without trouble
And find me in the gossamer
...
I dreamt of you last night,
the wish to never wake to grainy color
Pervaded our language barrier,
Sometimes I think better of silence
...
Cosmonotic, the gnostic revels in
The deepening sky, ever deepened
'Twixt some thumb and forefinger
The azure-hued guise, upward dark
...
Everything spoken with eyes
Forgets meaning
Semantic tableaux drifted 'way
It's in these most precious
...
The last leaves wave on winded tremble
Victory parade confetti
Yet released
I remember them not long ago
...
The vesper candelabrum wishes
To reach its dying heat to dawn
Dig into the earth's fertile
Sediment, and excavate
...
Our houses sewn of fiery gleam
Withered form, I stow away,
Shroud the roughworn gravel
Of myself
...
You were warm and everything
I admire, never letting your
Cold microscope dictate studies
Of our love
...
The tongue and soul birth
A language yoked to spirit
Through the written word one communes
With another soul across silence
...
A.Z. McCoy Biography
Lived most of my life in the Mid-Atlantic (PA and VA) . I enjoy a competitive game of chess. My favorite writers are Dostoevsky, David Foster Wallace, Kundera, Joyce, Carver, Atwood, and Julian Barnes, to name a few. Regarding film: Kubrick and Tarkovsky. Roy Andersson, Bunuel, P.T. Anderson, and Bergman too. From Fellini's 8 1/2 to Spike Lee joints to Jarmusch's vignettes. It seems the world is moving to a sadder and sadder fate but I believe that it's for us to choose our subjective positions, without relinquishing our minds to a cultural decay that warps and destroys any true meaning. I majored in history. Favorite philosophers include: Kierkegaard, Sartre, Jesus Christ, Jean Baudrillard, Plato, Locke, Emerson, Gautama Buddha, and Nietzsche- a mixed bag, for sure. I'm somewhat trained in fiction and screenwriting from undergrad, largely learning and reading on my own, yet to produce anything of value in these mediums, the fact of which haunts me and keeps my fingers fevered spidering keys. I have a less-than-an-ideal ear for poetry but am trying to learn and feel it out. My favorite poets include Ondaatje, Hart Crane, Arseniy Tarkovsky, Wallace Stevens, Frost, Whitman, Angelou, Ginsberg, Dickey, Eliot, Pound, Blake, and Gibran. I've worked many jobs: film projectionist during and after college; avionics software tester/engineer, which took me to Buenos Aires for a bit; cabdriver (I like to call this 'cabbiteer') : pest exterminator; home renovator. I work jobs that afford me the time to write but more and more I realize life will be difficult without a 'career' on my CV/resume. So it goes. Sacrifices are necessary and embraced. Best of luck to you, reader, wherever you might be.)
The Best Poem Of A.Z. McCoy
Stormy Coves
In our stormy cove
Nightwind howling waves 'cross
silent, praying rocks
A battered roughness
Awash
In the darkness crashing
We built fires ashore
sang songs
That fade and leave trace
And whispered until late
Of all the distances between
Warm bodies lean't against 'nother
Shielding and shrouded,
Sturdy in the night
Crackle of coals and burning
beachwood, giving itself over
to a cleansing rapture
Intensity
Flickering and dancing in death
Release
Of the rushing splay of softlight
Of all that washes up and remains
For the dancing, leaping flame
Around the pile of ember
Cicero rouses,
Rubs his eyes,
Clucking at the dark cloud-wisped sky,
Blond trumpet boy wakes
knelt o'er smoldered pyre
He plays for
Restless, teary-eyed gulls,
Lost in the wind,
Hearing the horn's blessing
But caught at storm
A.Z. McCoy Comments
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9/18/2026 3:39:22 PM # rel_20260910T140628Z_5ffb431
Welcome, I have little feel for meter and verse, but I enjoy wordworking all the same.