Autobiography of Red, both a novel and a poem, is an extraordinary and tender book. It's an unconventional re-creation of the ancient Greek myth about Geryon and a wholly original queer coming-of-age story set in the present. It is written in verses which made it all the more fascinating and compelling. The space between the sentences gave me a chance to catch my breath. I feel reading this book one time isn't enough to catch the whole beauty of both the story as the poetry. So definitely gonna reread this soon.



*

It was raining on his face. He forgot for a moment that he was a brokenhaert

then the remembered. Sick lurch

downward to Geryon trapped in his own bad apple. Each morning a shock

to return to the cut soul.

Pulling himself onto the edge of the bed he stared at the dull amplitude of rain.

Buckets of water sloshed from sky

to roof to eave to windowsill. He watched it hit his feet and puddle on the floor.

He could hear bits of human voice

streaming down the drainpipe -I believe in being gracious-

He slammed the window shut.

Below in the living room everything was motionless. Drapes closed, chairs asleep.

Huge wads of silence stuffed the air.

He was staring around for the dog then realized they hadn't had a dog for years. Clock

in the kitchen said quarter to six.

He stood looking at it, willing himself not to blink until the big hand bumped over

to the next time. Years passed

as his eyes ran water and a thousand ideas jumped his brain -If the world

ends now I am free and

If the world ends now no one will see my autobiography- finally it bumped.

He had a flash of Herakles' sleeping house

and put that away. Gout out the coffee can, turned on the tap and started to cry.