Joshua Marie Wilkinson's "Rabbit Light Movies" is up with a new episode of sweet little poemfilms that'll make you smile even when the temperature drops forty degrees in the span of a few hours. My favorites, so far, are Jason Bredle and Julia Cohen and Mathias Svalina reading from the new collaborative chapbook called, "When We Broke the Microscope," and published by my friend, Friedrich Kerksieck, available for purchase at: www.smallfirespress.com. In fact, the book itself makes an uncredited cameo at the bottom of the screen for much of the film.
The thing I love most about Bredle's video is the life it takes on all by itself, becoming not just a filmed poetry reading, but a glimpse into the poems particular place in the world. Watching Bredle react to passersby, in what looks to be Lincoln Park here in Chicago, is precious to say the least. What plays out on his face is amazing, the realization that poem and place are not at all compatible, but the fact that he MUST do it (as evidenced in Wilkinson's "Take 67" at the outset of the film) driving him forward.
The film, in its few minutes turns out to the actual separation between the poet in the privacy of his workspace, and the poet in public. What is more than easy to say there can become virtually unsayable someplace else.
Watch it, you'll love it too.
And now for 12 really good songs I found for free in the month of January:
1. Mr. Pitiful, by Matt Costa
2. Bag of Hammers, by Thao
3. Electric Bird, by Sia
4. Rockist Part 1, by School of Language
5. Today (SP cover), by Ben Kweller
6. The March, by Astra Heights
7. Next to Argyle, by Scissors for Lefty
8. On and On, by The Bell
9. Seeds of Night, by The Cave Singers
10. Paper Aeroplane, by Angus and Julia Stone
11. Glue Girls, by Somebody Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin
12. Safe Tomorrow Sun, by Surrounded
See you in NY!
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Poems Forthcoming This Year (So Far)
Okay, so when I started this thing up again I didn't want its focus to be on MY poetry, but I've had an amazing year so far and I have to let someone know; even if that someone is the readership of this blog. That said, look for me, or rather, my poems, in these places in the coming months:
lament, The Daily Palette, and H_NGM_N, which is huge and a placement that I am very proud of. Personally, I hold that particular journal in the upper echelon of contemporary poetry, so to be a part of it is really something special.
Also, I'm in the process of recording some more poems and hope to have those up here soon.
Be on the look out next week as this blog travels to NYC for AWP.
lament, The Daily Palette, and H_NGM_N, which is huge and a placement that I am very proud of. Personally, I hold that particular journal in the upper echelon of contemporary poetry, so to be a part of it is really something special.
Also, I'm in the process of recording some more poems and hope to have those up here soon.
Be on the look out next week as this blog travels to NYC for AWP.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
AWP Shopping List
Black Ocean's new Journal, "Handsome"--I think there is a good chance this will be my new favorite journal, it's got these guys in it: Lily Brown, Sommer Browning, Paula Cisewski, Adam Clay, John Colburn, Jeff Downey, Julie Doxsee, Sarah Fox, Kate Greenstreet, Sarah Goldstein, Joshua Harmon, Annaliese Jakimides, Rauan Klassnik, Gabriella Klein Lindsey, Greg Koehler, Marcia LeBeau, Michael Macklin, Adam Peterson, Joshua Poteat, Mary Ruefle, Tomaz Salamun, Marisa Siegel, Brandon Shimoda, Peter Jay Shippy, Mathias Svalina, Jocko Weyland, Joshua Marie Wilkinson, Barbara Yien and Jake Adam York. Why wouldn't I buy this?
Joshua Marie Wilkinson's, "The Book of Flashlights, Clover & Milk"--From what I've heard, this book is going to be beautiful, and from what I've read, it's going to be awesome.
Jennifer L. Knox's, "Drunk by Noon"--Any book that you'd be inclined to hide from your mother is a book worth owning (now that you don't live with your mother). Knox's poems capture our naughtiest hopes, like when a friend tells you about a gruesome accident they saw and you think, "Man, I've never seen anything that cool."
Dorothea's Lasky's "AWE"--I'm actually a little embarrassed to not have already read this book. Lasky is a poet who seems to have no interest in being a poet. You can't call Lasky a poet, but you can say that there is a poet called Dorothea Lasky.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Further Proof that Eric Baus is a Master of the Universe from here on known as Bausto
Yesterday, while I was busy pretending to be an attendee, Weird Deer posted a hotline call from Eric Baus titled, "Our Common Cloud," and it, my friends, is good. There are many times that I read a poem and think, "Damn, if only I'd written that first" (In fact, that very thing happened today while I was reading Aaron Fagan's poem about Ben Hecht, whose Chicago home is three houses down from my apartment, and whose name has been floating around my poems for months). Baus' poems, though, are out of this world. His ability to take ideas that bounce in and out of our heads everyday and turn them into quarters freshly pulled from our ears borders on being unfair. We are all quite familiar with the beauty of newly fallen snow and the utter disappointment of that same snow the next morning, but when Baus says, "It hurt to see the same snow twice," we see that it is an experience we undervalue greatly. And so it is with all of Baus' work. His poems are like watching somebody with an acute sense of taste eat, no matter how hard I try, my food will never taste that good.
There is a sense of jealousy and foolishness that come along with reading (or hearing) these poems, and I don't mean that to be seen in a negative light. It's the kind of jealousy and foolishness that makes us admire what has made us feel that way. In a sense, it's our retired farmer grandfathers laughing at us when we tell them we want to be poets...they really don't care if we're poets or not, but they know we have no idea what a luxury that desire is.
A few "One more thing's"
Tonight, my dog disguised herself as a half-eaten pigeon when I wasn't paying attention. I will lie awake dreaming of steaming rectum.
Cat Power's new album good enough to buy, but not her best. Matt Costa's new record is also good enough to buy.
If you want to hear the poem this post was based on click the title, it is linked to the mp3. I suggest you download it and listen to it on repeat about twenty times.
There is a sense of jealousy and foolishness that come along with reading (or hearing) these poems, and I don't mean that to be seen in a negative light. It's the kind of jealousy and foolishness that makes us admire what has made us feel that way. In a sense, it's our retired farmer grandfathers laughing at us when we tell them we want to be poets...they really don't care if we're poets or not, but they know we have no idea what a luxury that desire is.
A few "One more thing's"
Tonight, my dog disguised herself as a half-eaten pigeon when I wasn't paying attention. I will lie awake dreaming of steaming rectum.
Cat Power's new album good enough to buy, but not her best. Matt Costa's new record is also good enough to buy.
If you want to hear the poem this post was based on click the title, it is linked to the mp3. I suggest you download it and listen to it on repeat about twenty times.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Series A Reading Featuring Kimberly Lojek & Aaron Fagan
Tonight, down at the Hyde Park Art Center, was the year's first Series A reading. Nine people showed up: 2 readers, 4 friends of readers, 1 radio tech, 1 curator, and me. Needless to say, I quickly became a curiosity, but that's neither here nor there.
The Series A readings is put together by poet, Bill Allegrezza, who, after recently having a baby, handed the reigns over to local writer, Kristy Odelius (whose poems I am quickly becoming enamored with, you can read them here: http://members.aol.com/kodelius/poems.html). Odelius pieced together an interesting union of voices in Kim Lojek and Aaron Fagan, Midwest, East Coast and both leaning towards the momentary.
Lojek's poems often leave you feeling scattered. Having read everything I could find online, I was excited to hear her read them herself. Her sentence structure is stuttering, and most times, hearing the poet perform the poems sheds light onto the rhythm, and opens up interpretation a bit. The thing was, though, you couldn't hear her...at all. I was sitting 6 feet from her and had to lean in, then take off my stocking hat, then turn my head. What I did hear was great, and fortunately, I was able to pick up on the cadence of her voice, even if I couldn't pick out every word. Definitely find some of her work, she's a good ol' Iowan, and on the cutting edge of "experimental" verse.
Aaron Fagan's voice carried a bit more and he read a great poem called, "Monopoly, Toledo" (which can be read here: http://faganism.blogspot.com/2006_02_01_archive.html, directly under the looney tunes poem). I don't know if it was because I knew he was from New York, but his poems seemed very New York School to me. The referencing of artists, odd spaces, abstract conversations, and how all those things build up a nice little surrealist package. He had thick, dark hair that he combed straight back, making him look like he might be from the Jersey school, but that joke was lame and I'm already sorry I did it.
Anywho, check out as many of these fine people's poems as you can...but you don't have to take my word for it!
The Series A readings is put together by poet, Bill Allegrezza, who, after recently having a baby, handed the reigns over to local writer, Kristy Odelius (whose poems I am quickly becoming enamored with, you can read them here: http://members.aol.com/kodelius/poems.html). Odelius pieced together an interesting union of voices in Kim Lojek and Aaron Fagan, Midwest, East Coast and both leaning towards the momentary.
Lojek's poems often leave you feeling scattered. Having read everything I could find online, I was excited to hear her read them herself. Her sentence structure is stuttering, and most times, hearing the poet perform the poems sheds light onto the rhythm, and opens up interpretation a bit. The thing was, though, you couldn't hear her...at all. I was sitting 6 feet from her and had to lean in, then take off my stocking hat, then turn my head. What I did hear was great, and fortunately, I was able to pick up on the cadence of her voice, even if I couldn't pick out every word. Definitely find some of her work, she's a good ol' Iowan, and on the cutting edge of "experimental" verse.
Aaron Fagan's voice carried a bit more and he read a great poem called, "Monopoly, Toledo" (which can be read here: http://faganism.blogspot.com/2006_02_01_archive.html, directly under the looney tunes poem). I don't know if it was because I knew he was from New York, but his poems seemed very New York School to me. The referencing of artists, odd spaces, abstract conversations, and how all those things build up a nice little surrealist package. He had thick, dark hair that he combed straight back, making him look like he might be from the Jersey school, but that joke was lame and I'm already sorry I did it.
Anywho, check out as many of these fine people's poems as you can...but you don't have to take my word for it!
Monday, January 21, 2008
lament: Poetry Disguised as Newsletter
A new poetry journal is up and running over at
Here, though, is the most exciting tangible of lament; it is a single sheet, one poet per side, easy to digest pamphlet. If you so desired you could carry it in your back pocket, tape it to the wall by your toilet, or sneak it in with work papers and read it while your assumes you are busy with one of her assignments. The point is this, no longer do you have to carry with you a "volume" to read poetry. No longer is the consumption of poetry relegated to the bag carriers of the world.
It is widely believed that the only people reading poetry with any regularity are the poets themselves, it is my hope that a literary journal in this form will change that. Lofty, yes, but also doable, I think. Cheap to produce, convenient to carry with you, and totally enjoyable.
Here, though, is the most exciting tangible of lament; it is a single sheet, one poet per side, easy to digest pamphlet. If you so desired you could carry it in your back pocket, tape it to the wall by your toilet, or sneak it in with work papers and read it while your assumes you are busy with one of her assignments. The point is this, no longer do you have to carry with you a "volume" to read poetry. No longer is the consumption of poetry relegated to the bag carriers of the world.
It is widely believed that the only people reading poetry with any regularity are the poets themselves, it is my hope that a literary journal in this form will change that. Lofty, yes, but also doable, I think. Cheap to produce, convenient to carry with you, and totally enjoyable.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Matthew Zapruder: Fringe Poetry Series
Click on the title of this post and be amazed by a new Zapruder Film. The introduction is ridiculously long; I don't really get the desire to critically acclaim in introductions, there is no bravado in doing so, I mean, can you imagine some one coming out onto a stage and going, "Led Zeppelin are the writers of 10 albums and numerous side projects. Their music is a thundering announcement that what we need is never what we want..." and so on. It'd be preposterous, so why do we insist on doing it to authors?
Anyway, the aspect of Zapruder's reading style that I've always tried to imitate is its unassumingness. His poems, when read off the page, are often withholding (i.e., the poems continually replace specific, expected words/ideas, with other word/ideas that don't just turn our expectations on their ears, they remove the ears altogether), but his ease of tone while reading them aloud conditions you to believe that he is having a conversation with you, or that he is passing on fatherly advice. It is a sincerity in his cadence and timbre, the feeling that if he didn't have a microphone, you might not even notice what he was doing. I respect that greatly, and hope that my future readings can sound like Zapruder.
Anyway, the aspect of Zapruder's reading style that I've always tried to imitate is its unassumingness. His poems, when read off the page, are often withholding (i.e., the poems continually replace specific, expected words/ideas, with other word/ideas that don't just turn our expectations on their ears, they remove the ears altogether), but his ease of tone while reading them aloud conditions you to believe that he is having a conversation with you, or that he is passing on fatherly advice. It is a sincerity in his cadence and timbre, the feeling that if he didn't have a microphone, you might not even notice what he was doing. I respect that greatly, and hope that my future readings can sound like Zapruder.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
"Big Time" Matthew Zapruder & the best explanation of "writer's life" ever
"One thing I learned for myself, and try to communicate to poets who seem to be having a hard time with the whole idea of being a poet as opposed to a so-called productive member of society, is that like every job, being a poet has its very predictable occupational hazards. If you’re going to be a carpenter you will have to get up early and lug stuff around a lot and occasionally whack your thumb with a hammer; if you want to be an academic, you’ll have to deal with a lot of garbage to get tenure; and if you’re a poet, you’re going to feel like a loser staring at a piece of paper all day while everyone else is at their “real” jobs. Your parents are going to be worried, you’re going to have to move around a lot, and people are always going to be confessing to you that they don’t really understand anything you’ve just said. If you can’t handle those things—and there’s nothing wrong with wanting a more stable life, one that doesn’t require so much explanation to others and yourself—then you shouldn’t be a professional poet."
PennSound...you'll love it too.
Most of us writerly folk have a hard time imagining poetry as anything but an intimate interaction between reader and print. Consumption of poems, then, is usually relegated to quiet, out-of-the-way places like our own homes, the corners of coffee shops, or, if we are feeling particularly adventurous, a darkened booth at a local pub with only 1-2 other people in it. And when we do go to readings there is always an awkwardness regarding reception of the poems as they come; do we applaud after each one? do we wait until after whole reading is done? Why do we keep with us this idea of stoic respect for the writer audibly practicing his craft?
I think its two things, one, we don't go to enough readings to ever establish a new audience mentality,(when I hosted readings at a rock club I used to encourage those in attendance to treat it like a rock show, but it was tough to get people to do it), and two, that hearing poetry aloud is such a foreign experience our brains don't quite know what to do. But there is a way to remedy the situation. Go to PennSound...hear poetry.
PennSound is an ever expanding library of audio clips from poets past and present, and a few who are both (is anyone else shocked John Ashbery is still alive?). Most links can be downloaded from the site to your favorite mp3 player, so you don't even have to fully give up the secrecy of poetic interaction! A few recommendations: the entire Jack Spicer collection, its one of the few places to find his poems right now, and his lectures are kick-ass. also, Anselm Berrigan's reading at the Bowery Poetry Club. And if you really want to try something, play them out loud.
Play this out loud too...
I think its two things, one, we don't go to enough readings to ever establish a new audience mentality,(when I hosted readings at a rock club I used to encourage those in attendance to treat it like a rock show, but it was tough to get people to do it), and two, that hearing poetry aloud is such a foreign experience our brains don't quite know what to do. But there is a way to remedy the situation. Go to PennSound...hear poetry.
PennSound is an ever expanding library of audio clips from poets past and present, and a few who are both (is anyone else shocked John Ashbery is still alive?). Most links can be downloaded from the site to your favorite mp3 player, so you don't even have to fully give up the secrecy of poetic interaction! A few recommendations: the entire Jack Spicer collection, its one of the few places to find his poems right now, and his lectures are kick-ass. also, Anselm Berrigan's reading at the Bowery Poetry Club. And if you really want to try something, play them out loud.
Play this out loud too...
Friday, January 18, 2008
Beckman Reading O'Hara's "Poem (Lana Turner has collapsed!)"
I love this poem for many reasons, but mostly because it will be forever linked to my friend A.M., who read it to me late one night over cheap beer, cheaper wine and an excellent block of cheese.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Things I Accidentally Said Outloud While Walking Home.
1. "I feel at home in poems that estrange me from language." Poems that convince me I've yet to actually learn how to properly divulge my secrets. Poems that make me feel like I don't leave my apartment enough. Poems that are proof I don't leave my apartment enough.
2. "The only beard worth growing is a white one." There is a homeless guy in the park I walk by everyday who knows my name but never asks me for money. His beard is beautiful and if clouds were made wisps, they would all look like that man's face.
3. "Leaf Slop up my slacks." I've never seen anything quite like it, but rather than blow away, a pile of leaves soaked up rain water, froze and now repeats the process as the temperature fluctuates. Its one of the most despicable phenomenon I've ever been privy to.
And finally here is a poem I've read out loud...
2. "The only beard worth growing is a white one." There is a homeless guy in the park I walk by everyday who knows my name but never asks me for money. His beard is beautiful and if clouds were made wisps, they would all look like that man's face.
3. "Leaf Slop up my slacks." I've never seen anything quite like it, but rather than blow away, a pile of leaves soaked up rain water, froze and now repeats the process as the temperature fluctuates. Its one of the most despicable phenomenon I've ever been privy to.
And finally here is a poem I've read out loud...
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Letterpressed Ways to Spend Your Time & Money
For those of you in the Cedar Falls area on January 31, go see Aaron McNally read from his new book, "Out of the Blue." He will be doing so at Bought Again Books as part of the Final Thursday reading series. It's been a tough month; school started up, Christmas is over, it's cold. Go watch Aaron perform his heart out, buy his book (see it here http://caveworkspress.com), and while you're there, peruse the poetry shelf and find something else to buy too. There are lots of things to spend money on, you should try poetry for once.
Speaking of which, Friedrich Kerksieck of Small Fires Press will be selling his wares at the AWP Book Fair in NYC January 31-February 2. If you give him money and point he will give you something in return...not to bad a deal if you ask me. Also, if you can't make it to NYC you can visit his website, which I've linked to the right, and buy stuff there. He works really hard and turns out beautiful products, not to mention great poetry. (I'll be reviewing his latest release here in the coming days)
AND, if you do happen to be in NYC instead of Cedar Falls on the 31st, you must come to this reading...it is the only possible "make-up" for not seeing Aaron. It is, "Steal This Reading," Thursday. January 31. East Coast Aliens Studio w/CD Wright, Eleni Sikelianos, Rauan Klassnik, Julie Doxsee, Graham Foust, Joyelle McSweeney, Joshua Marie Wilkinson, Max Winter, Adam Clay, Morgan Lucas Schuldt, Lily Brown, Melanie Hubbard, Cindy Savett, and Jon Thompson, 7-11pm. New York, NY. Bring money & buy their books too, especially Adam Clay, but especially Joshua Marie Wilkinson.
Okay, here's a poem...
Speaking of which, Friedrich Kerksieck of Small Fires Press will be selling his wares at the AWP Book Fair in NYC January 31-February 2. If you give him money and point he will give you something in return...not to bad a deal if you ask me. Also, if you can't make it to NYC you can visit his website, which I've linked to the right, and buy stuff there. He works really hard and turns out beautiful products, not to mention great poetry. (I'll be reviewing his latest release here in the coming days)
AND, if you do happen to be in NYC instead of Cedar Falls on the 31st, you must come to this reading...it is the only possible "make-up" for not seeing Aaron. It is, "Steal This Reading," Thursday. January 31. East Coast Aliens Studio w/CD Wright, Eleni Sikelianos, Rauan Klassnik, Julie Doxsee, Graham Foust, Joyelle McSweeney, Joshua Marie Wilkinson, Max Winter, Adam Clay, Morgan Lucas Schuldt, Lily Brown, Melanie Hubbard, Cindy Savett, and Jon Thompson, 7-11pm. New York, NY. Bring money & buy their books too, especially Adam Clay, but especially Joshua Marie Wilkinson.
Okay, here's a poem...
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Eric Baus Reading One of My Top 5 Poems Ever.
Baus' poems never cease to startle me. We've all questioned nouns, verbs, adjectives, even adverbs, and all with good reason, but how many of us have ever dared to question conjunctions? At first glance, most of Baus' lines appear to be incomplete thoughts, but look again, and you'll see the very idea of language/communication becoming suspect. In fact, what is seen is the most desperate rendering of unrequited love imaginable: that of poet and language.
No matter how hard the poet tries, she will never...never be able to know language, to be able to make it do for us what we dream it doing. That relationship is one sided my friend.
Language, she is a bitter mistress.
I don't know...I suggest you read as much Baus as you can.
Monday, January 14, 2008
John Ashbery on Frank O'Hara's ability to do anything!
Last Spring a friend played me Tom Waits' "Rain Dogs" and I couldn't believe I'd spent 29 years without it. It's as close to a perfect record as I have ever heard, from the wider concept, to the instrumentation that is so foreign you'd think you had never heard a song before in whole life. I listened to all or part of it every day for a solid 3 months.
It was, at the time an obsession and now I've found a new one, Frank O'Hara. I got about half way through his collected before I stopped and read John Asbery's introduction. In short, it was like looking at a put-together puzzle and wondering why you ever thought it was so hard. I won't get into too much explication, but instead leave a few choice quotes to you:
On the avant-garde, "The actual mechanics of the method escaped me then as it does now; what mattered was that chance elements could combine to produce so beautiful and cogent a work. It was a further, perhaps for us ultimate proof not so much of 'Anything goes' but 'Anything can come out.'"
Without O'Hara, "there probably wouldn't be a young generation of poets committed to poetry as something living rather than an academic parlor game."
O'Hara's surrealist vernacular created a "remarkable new poetry--both modest and monumental, with something basically usable about it--not only for poets in search of a voice of their own but for the reader who turns to poetry as a last resort in trying to juggle the contradictory components of modern life into something like a livable space."
And of course, as poem...
It was, at the time an obsession and now I've found a new one, Frank O'Hara. I got about half way through his collected before I stopped and read John Asbery's introduction. In short, it was like looking at a put-together puzzle and wondering why you ever thought it was so hard. I won't get into too much explication, but instead leave a few choice quotes to you:
On the avant-garde, "The actual mechanics of the method escaped me then as it does now; what mattered was that chance elements could combine to produce so beautiful and cogent a work. It was a further, perhaps for us ultimate proof not so much of 'Anything goes' but 'Anything can come out.'"
Without O'Hara, "there probably wouldn't be a young generation of poets committed to poetry as something living rather than an academic parlor game."
O'Hara's surrealist vernacular created a "remarkable new poetry--both modest and monumental, with something basically usable about it--not only for poets in search of a voice of their own but for the reader who turns to poetry as a last resort in trying to juggle the contradictory components of modern life into something like a livable space."
And of course, as poem...
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Joshua and Noah reading from "Figures for A Darkroom Voice."
I've been meaning to share this for a while, but hadn't really been blogging, so if I hadn't already told you about this, here you go:
The Importance of Complete Experience (or Lack Thereof)
It seems to me that experience in poetry has little to do with the experience being related to in the poem itself. It's selfish, really, but I don't care what the speaker is or has gone through, unless they can offer me the experience first hand. The question then becomes, how do we do that?
Well, it is my opinion that it is only possible through the altering of perception. As Viktor Shklovsky says in his article, "Art as Technique," "Art exists so that one may recover the sensation of life; it exists to make one feel things...Art is a way of experiencing the artfulness of an object; the object is not important.” Poetry, as an art form, should adhere to these standards as well, but it always seems that the idea of a "literature" keeps blocking us from doing so.
Though we'd all admit that literature is artful, are we all willing to experience it as we do art in a museum?
I'd argue that we do not. That, unlike all other arts that are not presented to us in book form, we desire to have literature do the work for us. We want it to tell us a story, to take us to different worlds, to show us things outside our everyday. And while that may appear similar to Shklovsky's purpose, it is nothing more than novelty, like going to see a circus sideshow to gain an appreciation of your own humanity.
Our own experiences are never as complete as the novel, or the epic, or the biography desire to be, and so we do not experience them in the way we experience art. We view these experiences as second-hand knowledge and often congratulate those authors for re-creating those experiences so thoroughly.
Poetry, though, has the chance, not to do this, but to instead create new experiences between author and audience, to offer, as Jack Spicer said, "a narrative which refuses to adopt an imposed story line." In short, it's the creation of a space in which a reader has the ability or option of creating a new experience by way of their interaction with the world created in the poem.
This was brief, but this is also a blog, and who has the time. Here's a poem:
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