days I could not find the sundarling so blue without youday doesn’t die, it does it blind,it furies, it comes and goesin braided bells of birdsongswells and hollows in...
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In My Room I will go inside nowand keep going till I’ve found you.All the rooms are empty,someone’s moved or gone bankrupt,a friendly dust on the floorrust in the...
Read MorePaper Letterspaper letterslike polaroidsdevelopin the floatinglight of candlesmusic to stareat stars by word eases into oasesof hair tangled in weedsthe stamp of the...
Read MoreWinter Room The chains of the swings hang still.The benches are covered in snow.High on a naked bough a crowLays down the law with beak and claw.I stare out the window...
Read MoreI’m very excited to have published a poem, North Star in the Whiskey Tit Journal. The other work is terrific, and it’s great to appear alongside so much...
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THE MAN WHO CAN'T DIE
"Frankel once again produces a thrilling futuristic dystopia which includes white-knuckle action, lots of sex and drugs, and a post-menopausal white-haired research scientist heroine who is trying to save the world from her own mad genius." Buy on Amazon | Buy on Whiskey Tit
GAHA: BABES OF THE ABYSS
"It's hard to put down this book, full of Frankel's autodidact ramblings and wild flights of language." Buy on Amazon | Buy on Whiskey Tit
SPECIMEN TANK
"There's more truth in this book than anyone in the biotech industries would care to admit. Plus, it's funny as hell." Buy on Amazon