Let's Peel
Inferno (A Poet’s Novel)
Not quite a memoir Or a manual on how to become a poet.
Perfect if you want to watch a life unspool into art, messy and luminous, with New York as both wound and muse.
Synopsis
“I had a dream and I wrote it down. That was the beginning and maybe it’s the end.”
Part memoir, part downtown myth — Inferno tells how Myles became a poet, moving through poverty, queer desire, friendships, failures, and the bohemian sprawl of New York. It’s a novel that laughs at itself even as it aches with seriousness. The book exposes the hustle of art — the begging, the hustling, the joy of writing even when no one listens.
Reading it is like following someone through the city at night, every corner a poem, every stumble a revelation.
Mood:
queer · irreverent · self-mythic · luminous
Tone:
confessional · witty · conversational · unguarded
It Feels Like
Body:
restless energy, laughter knotted with longing.
Tempo:
meandering, sudden turns, bursts of speed.
Texture:
typewriter ink smeared on fingers.
A Little Taste
“I wanted to be a poet. Not to wear black and read to people who already were poets. I wanted to write things down because I was alive and that seemed worth recording. Inferno was my life, New York was my stage, and poetry was the only thing that made sense of the dirt and the noise. You can call it failure or you can call it art. Either way, I was there, writing it down.”
The Aftertaste
Shows art-making as survival, not glamour.
Makes you feel the city as pulse, noise, possibility.
Leaves you restless, wanting to turn your own chaos into story.
Peel With a Drink
To be served with a Negroni in a heavy glass — bitter Campari, sweet vermouth, sharp gin, stirred not shaken.
It’s elegant but brash, ruby red like a bruise, the kind of drink that tastes like both defiance and celebration.
Peel With a Reel
Frances Ha (dir. Noah Baumbach, 2012) — art, failure, friendship, New York as backdrop.
Downtown 81 (dir. Edo Bertoglio, 2000) — a poet wandering the city, half myth, half document.
Peel with a Beat
Peel me a Book
Or Try:
Kathy Acker
another punk-feminist who rips open language, body, and story.
Let's Peel
Inferno (A Poet’s Novel)
Not quite a memoir Or a manual on how to become a poet.
Perfect if you want to watch a life unspool into art, messy and luminous, with New York as both wound and muse.
Synopsis
“I had a dream and I wrote it down. That was the beginning and maybe it’s the end.”
Part memoir, part downtown myth — Inferno tells how Myles became a poet, moving through poverty, queer desire, friendships, failures, and the bohemian sprawl of New York. It’s a novel that laughs at itself even as it aches with seriousness. The book exposes the hustle of art — the begging, the hustling, the joy of writing even when no one listens.
Reading it is like following someone through the city at night, every corner a poem, every stumble a revelation.
Mood:
queer · irreverent · self-mythic · luminous
Tone:
confessional · witty · conversational · unguarded
It Feels Like
Body:
restless energy, laughter knotted with longing.
Tempo:
meandering, sudden turns, bursts of speed.
Texture:
typewriter ink smeared on fingers.
A Little Taste
“I wanted to be a poet. Not to wear black and read to people who already were poets. I wanted to write things down because I was alive and that seemed worth recording. Inferno was my life, New York was my stage, and poetry was the only thing that made sense of the dirt and the noise. You can call it failure or you can call it art. Either way, I was there, writing it down.”
The Aftertaste
Shows art-making as survival, not glamour.
Makes you feel the city as pulse, noise, possibility.
Leaves you restless, wanting to turn your own chaos into story.
Peel With a Drink
To be served with a Negroni in a heavy glass — bitter Campari, sweet vermouth, sharp gin, stirred not shaken.
It’s elegant but brash, ruby red like a bruise, the kind of drink that tastes like both defiance and celebration.
Peel With a Reel
Frances Ha (dir. Noah Baumbach, 2012) — art, failure, friendship, New York as backdrop.
Downtown 81 (dir. Edo Bertoglio, 2000) — a poet wandering the city, half myth, half document.

