from jubilat 15, my new favorite poet via my new favorite poems

Collier Nogues

Long Weekend II

Windmills in West Texas twice, once going (the headstone not in place

yet, still a plastic marker), once coming back. In every house

she'd lived, she'd hung crystals in the kitchen window. We took

yours down. The first irises opened just hours later, in the dark

of the side yard.

When the news about your mother came

I thought I wouldn't know what to tell you about grieving,

though when I lie flat on a wood floor I remember how I did it.

My cotton blanket looks like your cotton blanket except yours is electric.

Chicken-Sitting

We didn't even hear the dogs: everything is a big deal to chickens.

The desire to bind

the other to oneself, the urge to abandon the other in the thin trees of the park

and drive alone, safely, to a sunny spot in the grass of one's own yard.

I like your problems. I like that you wear pink.

Little chinese fans of clouds, and then vertebrae.

I liked being up at that hour but I didn't like why.

I used to consider myself "hip." Then I moved to Chicago. Chicago is full of "hip" people. They call themselves "hipsters." I no longer believe myself to be "hip." If "hip" was lawndarts I would be inside the circle but way off the bullseye...there could be many reasons for this but I blame the "economic crisis."

It is in this spirit that I tell you that:

• my favorite record right now is "Only by the Night," by Kings of Leon. I've been a fan of KOL since their first EP, and like many I was a little weary of their decision to focus on pop melodies, but the track, "I want you" may be the best record I've heard since Bon Savants' "Between the moon and the ocean," which is my favorite song...ever.
  
• I got a new pair of blue Adidas for Christmas. I love them, so I've decided the only way to not ruin them is to never wear them, at least not until Spring.
  
• In the meantime, all I wear are giant snowboots with velcro straps that were on sale, but also much too large.
  
• I'm just now getting into "Freaks and Geeks."
• I'm ready to admit that corduroys are my favorite type of slack and blazer, but not my favorite type of suit...
• My wife's birthday is this weekend and I've purchased her 3 extraordinarily lame and cheap gifts that I fear she'll hate.
• I think that Jason Segal (of How I Met Your Mother and Freaks and Geeks) and I could be best friends...and I don't care who knows it.
• I only mentioned that because people who I mention in my blog have a knack for finding themselves in it...which is why you should totally email me, Jason. Seriously...we could have the best time together!

I'm currently reading a shit-ton of James Tate, Peter Gizzi, CD Wright, Forrest Gander and Cole Swensen, mostly to fuel my dreams of studying under them someday, but more because I'm lame and really haven't read them much before, though I have seen all them read, which I count for something, but you may not...

I make kick ass guacamole, Jason. I'd love to share a bowl with you...call me.

Octopus 11

...is out and features 3, yes 3, further adventures poets:

Brooklyn Copeland

Eric Baus

Joshua Marie Wilkinson

This is good company and I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am to be entrusted with their work...as awesome as it is.

I am putting the finishing touches on book 2 (Wilkinson/Lucas Pingel) and it should go to print sometime next week with the hopes of having it all together by the time the big AWP show rolls into town.

Wicked...

I've decided that that is my new thing, "wicked." I like it and it seems just obnoxious enough to be totally something I'd do.

You've got to sand the moon flat before you paint over it.

I live in an old apartment building in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago. When my building retires and stops being a building it will be the moon. If you follow science at all, that makes me one of two things, a Proto-Moon Man, or a Meso-Moon Man. And these are pictures of my primordial moon room. Don't you wish could grow geography too? Don't you wish your retirement plans included "become the moon?" Don't you wish that you were a building capable of frightening its inhabitants by pushing your newly formed geography through your own many layers of paint?

I don't think I want to be frightening, but if I did, this would be how I'd do it...

My dog is very inspirational. Yesterday I gave her a bath. Then I took a bath. I hadn't, up to then, taken a bath in almost 10 years. My wife takes baths all the time. She reads in there. My dog can't read, but I'll swear to you that when she barks, it sounds like she's just saying, "bark." I've started saying "bark" now too, but only when I talk to my dog. I think it would be weird to say "bark" to a person. They might think you're angry with them, which would rarely be the case because I don't talk (at all) to people I'm angry with.

My dog also inspired me to tell you that I will have JMW and LBP's FA book done by AWP.

Oops, I mean...Bark.

B.O. v. B.O.

Okay, so this is a trite observation, but I think one still worth making...Black Ocean is the Barack Obama of the poetry world. From the restoration of idealism and hope, to their respective grassroots movements, to their radial logos, one can't help but place their literary dreams alongside those of the editors of Black Ocean. Where most publishers of poetry seem content in selling only to other poets, Black Ocean is going out an introducing themselves to a larger populace. Through the use of parties, movie marathons and other seemingly non-literary events, BO is building interest in their brand and not just their poetry. Obama did this well too, by not becoming the face of the democratic party and its politics, but by becoming the face of Barack Obama. I am interested in anything Black Ocean does and its not because I'm a poet, it's because I think they're fucking cool and I want to be part of it, and I will be, especially when I have these books to look forward to:

Scape by Joshua Harmon (Spring 2009)

With Deer by Aase Berg / trans. by Johannes Göransson (Spring 2009)

Scary No Scary by Zachary Schomburg (Summer 2009)

Objects For A Fog Death by Julie Doxsee (Winter 2009)

Pigafetta Is My Wife by Joe Hall (Spring 2010)

I'm not the first person to rave about this press and I won't be the last, and chances are you already own at least one of their books, so you should go and buy more: http://www.blackocean.org/

Okay, so a few pretty cool things took place today. One, I mailed off my last application to MFA school (Amherst). Two, I found a James Tate book I didn't own at the used book store. Three, I got my issue of Corduroy Mtn. One in the mail and got to read it on my couch while drinking a beer at 3:00 in the afternoon. Four, I got to do all these things because I wasn't expected at work today...

In the column of less awesome things: I made barely adequate rice pilaf (first try), I had to listen to President Bush give a speech that was, in my mind, the equivalent of an abusive husband explaining why he HAS to hit his wife (he only did what he did to protect us, you see), I also had to walk around Chicago with a -40 degree wind chill blowing on my face, though that did force me into a pretty good sandwich shop I'd never been to before...so the temperature is a gray area at best.

I've been having lots of complex, suspense movie dreams lately. I don't what the deal is, but every night I always seem to be caught up some conspiracy. It's weird. What's worse is that I always wake up because my brain starts to consciously attempt to figure out what's going on. The last three nights I've caught myself lying awake at 4 in the morning working through who is after who...

noah and the whale.......are awesome.

From Crackle: Noah and the Whale 'Five Years Time'

I'm pretty sure I used to be interesting. People used to call me on the telephone, or e-mail me. I was even occasionally interviewed about things I knew about...Poetry and Bob Dylan, mostly. But I used to know about other things too. Now, the bulk of my shared knowledge is what's on TV during any given night...

It seems all I talk about now is how poor I am, or how frustrating, but absolutely necessary my job is. I'm a one trick pony...with a really boring trick, like sitting and staying. Oh, I also talk about how awesome my future is going to be, but that's mostly to compensate for crappy my present is...see, there I go again. Oh, and tonight, on NBC, is Earl, Kath & Kim, The Office and 30 Rock.

Anyway, I think I've become one of those guys.

When my wife wants me to cheer up she says, "Isn't there good TV on tonight?" Sadly, that usually works...

I really need to get into grad school. Or just work harder at being interesting. Or maybe find people that like the same things I do...but that's probably a cop-out.

Being more interesting it is...

Christmas break in reverse

We come home to find this...a backed up sink. Backed up by what, you ask...backed up by rat, I answer. Sadly, I mean a real rat and not my diabolical nemesis attempting to ruin everything I love...like the ceramic sponge wielding toad, hand painted, no less, by my lovely wife.

We eat burritos that represent the most weight we lift in months...years, maybe.

We gawk at fat squirrels and then pretend to be fat squirrels having heart attacks. We then do additional, though needless and derivative, fat squirrel comedy bits the rest of vacation.

We drive around for hours taking 17 pictures of sun dogs all the while having arguments about what sun dogs actually are...scientifically.

I was right, by the way...scientifically.

Our vacation begins with a new found ability to not see buildings just beyond the trees, which, after enough time in the city becomes miraculous...also, it was wicked quiet...not at all like city quiet, but real quiet, you know?

Blogging on your in-laws' computer and how they can make it feel inappropriate

I'm back in Chicago, and I think it's time that I admit to you that Chicago and I just don't get along. I think we got off on the wrong foot; Chicago said some things, I said some things and now Chicago keeps knocking my TrapperKeeper out of my hands every time I walk by.

Chicago is big jerk...

Anyway, while I was back home I did some reading, but not a lot. I read my new Jack Spicer Anthology, but only the stuff I hadn't read before (all the early and unpublished poems), I read the two books I ordered from the greying ghost, Carl Annarummo (Shane Jones' "I Will Unfold You With My Hairy Hands," and Ryan Daley's "A Border Looks Like Making Love..."), both of which I liked, but only one of which I REALLY liked. You should go read these books and then guess which one of the two that could be...

A quick note on greying ghost: I adore what Mr. Annarummo is doing, from his business model (small runs, self-printing, lots of titles) to his aesthetic. All his books look wicked, and the poems inside are, in the very least, right up my ally. Also, the first issue of his print journal, Corduroy Mtn. is available for sale. The magazine would be awesome without me, but fortunately, that issue is moot as it DOES have me. GO BUY IT!

And for those of you keeping track; 3 down, 1 to go...