Biography of Daniel Nester
Daniel Murlin Nester known as Daniel Nester, is a writer, editor, and poet.
Daniel Nester was raised in Maple Shade Township, New Jersey. His father, Michael Nester, is a truck driver and member of the Teamsters labor union from Tucson, Arizona. His mother, Patricia Little, is a secretary from Maple Shade, New Jersey.
He attended Camden Catholic High School in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, and entered Rutgers University's Camden Campus, or Rutgers-Camden. He is currently am Assistant Professor of English at The College of Saint Rose, in Albany, New York, where he also curates the popular Frequency North reading series.
Nester is the author of two books about the musical group Queen, and his obsession with them: God Save My Queen: A Tribute and God Save My Queen II: The Show Must Go On. His other nonfiction work has appeared in numerous anthologies on gaming, poetry, and rock and roll.
His first book of poetry is The History of My World Tonight. His poetry has appeared in jubilat, Crazyhorse, Open City, Slope, Spoon River Poetry Review, Best American Poetry 2003, Poets & Writers, Time Out New York, and Bookslut.
Editing and Publishing
Nester published and edited the now-defunct online journal Unpleasant Event Schedule, and served as Assistant Web Editor for Sestinas for McSweeney’s. In the past he has edited for La Petite Zine, Ducky and Painted Bride Quarterly. He also served as editor and wrote the foreword to Words In Your Face: A Guided Tour Through Twenty Years of the New York City Poetry Slam Movement."
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Daniel Nester Poems
Late Anniversary Madrigal
May you find help from action figures I keep. May you find them in the top drawer And bring them out while you sleep And I welcome darkness--
Notes On An Unadorned Night
after Rene Char Let's agree that the night is a blank canvas, a station break, a bridge of a song.
Deaf Rush Limbaugh's Macaronic Blues
Soon I'll hear your voices, people, and you'll sound like Donald Duck. I'll hear every car horn honk, every plink and plunk and plonk.
Lately I've sat here afternoons just listening to the gluttonous newsmen argue
There's Got To Be A Morning After
I heard it once, smoothed-out by gallons of coffee, chest husking like a plow and pulled it into a basement.
Lately I've sat here afternoons
just listening to the
gluttonous newsmen argue
about fathers who kill
their wives and kids
then spirit off to Mexico.
My life's knee-deep