Sunday, February 28, 2010

Anonymous Press Name Press

How was your weekend? My brother left Denver yesterday afternoon, after acquiring a sunburn from skiing & a full belly from Lucile's creole food. Come back.

Does anyone know how to keep hyacinths alive? After all that repotting, they still want to tilt & die.

I'm not looking forward to this week. It involves lots of proofing, possibly giving up on an NEA grant application, and expanding a 6 page paper into a 15 page paper. Friday will be great though, 4th grade poetry & then a small press poetry festival at CU Boulder.


Issue 004 features work from:
Monday:: Alex Lemon
Wednesday:: Molly Bendall & John O'Brien

The Offending Adam has a new issue. The issue also tells me:
While you're around, if you missed anything from our previous issues, don't worry. All of our contributions remain archived and accessible on our site, including:
001.1:: Dan Beachy-Quick & Srikanth Reddy
001.2:: William Stobb
001.3:: Jennifer Sweeney
001.4:: Tom Clark
002.1:: Sasha Steensen
002.2:: Alex Long on Larry Levis
003.1:: Bob Hicok
003.2:: Christopher Schaberg & Mark Yakich


You could buy this:

Demosthenes Agrafiotis

Translated from the Greek by John Sakkis and Angelos Sakkis

Publisher: The Post-Apollo Press
PubDate: 2/1/2010
ISBN: 9780942996708
Price: $15.00
Quantity Available: 47
Pages: 96


New Colorado-based journal, M's poems: Umbrella Factory.



Lily Ladewig says nice things about my, Seth Landman's, and Ben Estes' chapbooks on her blog. Which is to say, maybe you should enjoy her blog, cuz clearly she knows what's up:

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Everything's Weird Press

Yesterday I went to Redrocks with my brother, his lady, Arda, and D'Count. The snow was melting into the red clay and it turned the snow pink. PINK SNOW! It was a beautiful afternoon.

In Denver Tonight:

Umbrella Factory Magazine presents it's first reading
at Fluid Coffee Bar (19th & Pennsylvania, Denver)
February 27th, 7:30 - 9:30p.

We're excited to have Mathias Svalina, Julie Carr, and J. Michael Martinez reading, and we're pretty sure you'll regret not showing up. Bios below:

J. Michael Martinez’s writings have appeared in Five Fingers Review, New American Writing, Colorado Review, on NPR, and, most recently, in Quarterly West, Eleven Eleven, Copper Nickel, and Parthenon West . He is the recipient of the 2006 Five Fingers Review Poetry Prize; his collection Heredities was selected by Juan Felipe Herrera for the Academy of American Poets' Walt Whitman Award and will be published by Louisiana State University Press in 2010.

Julie Carr is the author of four books of poetry: Mead: An Epithalamion, Equivocal, 100 Notes on Violence, which won the Sawtooth Poetry Award for 2009, and the forthcoming Sarah-of Fragments and Lines, a National Poetry Series winner. Her work has appeared in journals such as The Nation, Boston Review, and American Poetry Review. She is the co-publisher (with Tim Roberts) of Counterpath Press and teaching at the University of Colorado at Boulder.

Mathias Svalina's first book, Destruction Myth, is out from Cleveland State University Press. He is the author of five chapbooks, and the co-author of another five. His work has appeared in American Letters & Commentary, The Boston Review, Diagram, Jubilat, and many other journals. With Zachary Schomburg, he co-edits Octopus Magazine and Octopus Books. He teaches and lives in Denver.


In NY Tonight:

Black Ocean and Coldfront Magazine are celebrating the release of the new HANDSOME by co-sponsoring a poetry reading slash dance party at COCO 66 in Greenpoint on Saturday, February 27.

Should be nice and frosty.

Featured poets will be: Brianna Colburn, Jordan Davis, DJ Dolack, Shafer Hall, and Justin Marks

The reading will be followed by a DANCE PARTY. DJs Tobychoo & J. Cannibal will spin funk, garage, freak 40 and 60s soul. Get down so you can get down. Or at least have a few...

As Richard Chamberlain once said: “Realistically, it doesn't hurt to be good-looking, especially in this business.”

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Sneaky Baby Press

So I'm at the awkward stage of asking poets I love but do not personally know if they'd considering reading and then blurbing my book.

What else? It's very grey out for Denver. My brother is en route to visit me and I want to show him some mountains and clear skies. Unless it actually snows, in which case the grey sky is justified.

Today I'm going to vacuum! Vacuuming scares the dog.

Yesterday I read this novella:

I enjoyed it, but wasn't sure why people would love it. Do you love it?


Ok, this is probably the last time I will mention this, but if you haven't already, please consider getting a copy of my chapbook from Brave Men Press:


If you're in NY, this is happening Friday:

Jillian Brall, R. Erica Doyle, Adam Fieled, Steve Langan, Janaka Stucky & Mendi Obadike

Friday, February 26, at 7PM
Goodbye Blue Monday

1087 Broadway, Brooklyn
(corner of Dodworth St)
(718) 453-6343

J M Z trains to Myrtle Ave
or J train to Kosciusko St

Jillian Brall received both her BA in Creative Writing in 2004 and her MFA in Poetry in 2009 from The New School, in New York, NY. She is a NYC certified Teaching Artist, currently living in the Bushwick area of Brooklyn. She recently published a book of poems, Wet Information, under ZoeWo Press. She is also a saxophonist and visual artist, focusing on mixed media collage and painting. Several of her collages can be seen in the current issue of Pax Americana, as well as featured on The Best American Poetry Blog, and have been used as cover art for several electronic poetry books published by Scantily Clad Press. Prints of her collages, as well as copies of her book, Wet Information, are available for purchase at

R. Erica Doyle was born in Brooklyn to Trinidadian immigrant parents, and has lived in Washington, DC, Farmington, Connecticut and La Marsa, Tunisia. Her work has appeared in Best American Poetry, Our Caribbean: A Gathering of Lesbian and Gay Writing from the Antilles, Callaloo, Ploughshares, Best Black Women’s Erotica, Bum Rush the Page, and Ms. Magazine. She has received grants and awards from the Hurston/Wright Foundation, the Astraea Lesbian Writers Fund, and she was a New York Foundation for the Arts Poetry Fellow. She is also a fellow of Cave Canem: A Workshop and Retreat for Black Writers and her manuscript, proxy, was a finalist for the 2007 Cave Cavem Poetry Prize, selected by Claudia Rankine. She received her MFA in Poetry from the New School, and she lives in New York City, where she is at work on a novel, Fortune. Erica teaches in the NYC public schools and is the facilitator of Tongues Afire: A Creative Writing Workshop for queer women and trans and gender non-conforming people of color.

Adam Fieled is a poet based in Philadelphia. He has released three print books: “Opera Bufa” (Otoliths, 2007), “When You Bit…” (Otoliths, 2008), and “Chimes” (Blazevox, 2009), as well as numerous chaps, e-chaps, and e-books, including “Posit” (Dusie Press, 2007) and “The White Album” (ungovernable press, 2009). He has work in journals like Tears in the Fence, Great Works, The Argotist, Upstairs at Duroc, Jacket, and in the &Now Anthology from Lake Forest College Press. A magna cum laude graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, he also holds an MFA from New England College and an MA from Temple University, where he is completing his PhD. NOTA (MOLTO) BENE: Ask for a copy of Adam's new collaborative chap/book with Lars Palm, Don't Be Quiet, Start a Riot, fresh from Amy & Ana's Weekend Press!

Steve Langan is the author of Meet Me at the Happy Bar (BlazeVOX, 2009), Freezing, and Notes on Exile and Other Poems. He lives in Omaha and on Cliff Island, Maine.

Janaka Stucky is practicing the perfection of effort while working on silent relationships with knives, hairpins, & a history of tentacles. Other passions include whiskey and pugilism. He is also the Publisher of Black Ocean and its literary magazine, Handsome. His latest chapbook, Your Name Is The Only Freedom, is now available from Brave Men Press. Some of his other poems have appeared in Cannibal, Denver Quarterly, Fence, Free Verse, No Tell Motel, North American Review, Redivider and VOLT.

Mendi Lewis Obadike makes literature, art, and music. She is the author of Armor and Flesh: poems. She composed the The Sour Thunder, an Internet Opera and produced the audio anthology Crosstalk: American Speech Music with Keith Obadike. Her conceptual media artworks with Keith have been exhibited at the Whitney Museum, the New Museum, and Electronic Arts Intermix and the New York African Film Festival, among other institutions. M+K’s opera-masquerade Four Electric Ghosts debuted at The Kitchen in May 2009. Mendi is an Assistant Professor in Humanities and Media Studies at Pratt Institute.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

My Flower Is Smelling Like a Cookie Press

So, I mentioned that I've been teaching poetry to 4th and 5th graders. Here are some great poems they wrote last week, modeled on Brainard's "I Remember" series. I've kept them anonymous so I think this is okay to post:

I Remember

I remember feeling the pain of the cactus in my leg.

I remember smelling the air in Mexico.

I remember riding a horse with my uncle.

I remember falling down on the couch with my bottle and blanket when I was very small.


I Remember

I remember finding a deer post with my friends.

I remember how if you tap a lemon next to your ear it sounds like a Cherokee war dance.

I remember when I painted my dog red.

I remember how I go to my grandma’s every summer.

I remember snowboarding my first tall blue.

I remember being the ring bearer in my brother’s wedding.


I Remember

I remember being stabbed in the finger by my best friend.

I remember being pushed down a hill learning how to ride a bike.

I remember the taste of an orange with no flaws on the skin.

I remember being tickled by my dog and getting licked to death.

I remember being on a plane for the first time.

I remember that all seven of my pets were killed or died.

I remember seeing my brother in his first play.

I remember seeing the beautiful face of my baby sister.


I Remember

I remember the sound a leaf makes when you step on it in the fall.

I remember playing a giant chess game with my dad in Utah.

I remember getting in trouble for going behind the wall.


I Remember

I remember peeking over the edge of a cliff into the dark cold water that I was about to jump into.

I remember how big the TV seemed when I was younger.

I remember seeing the big wild black bear and thinking it was a shadow.

I remember the long green vines of grapes in my backyard.

I remember getting a guitar for Christmas and how out of tune it was.

I remember sitting on the front porch and watching the horizon turn color and the wad of clouds turn pink.


I Remember

I remember when I wanted to be a turtle when I grew up.

I remember falling down the stairs and bouncing off the wall.

I remember finding a bird’s nest in my Christmas wreath with eggs in it.

I remember my cat running away because the movers left the door open and looking for it.

I remember getting two new kittens.

I remember taking off my helmet after a day of skiing and how good it felt.

I remember the story of my sister breaking her arm falling over a sandbox and her bones coming out of her skin like a volcano.

I remember looking down the big, steep mountain covered in snow that I was about to ski.


I Remember

I remember walking around in preschool thinking I could hold Pluto in my hand.

I remember seeing Star Wars for the first time and thinking that it should be rated “R.”

I remember seeing my dog’s teeth as they sank into my face when I was five.

I remember the scary white slides at Water World.

I remember the throbbing pain and the water floating all around me when I fell off the rope swing into the stream.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Clods of Grass We Hold Up Like Scalps Press

I have two *very* new poems up at Alice Blue. Did I mention this already? I don't think so.


Happy Birthday, Eric Baus. I know it's a national holiday in Baustralia. Everyone rollerskates and ice cream never melts.


In the last week, a million books have released. These are some of the ones I have bought or will buy:

Justin Taylor's Everything Here Is The Best Thing Ever from HarperCollins. Justin was one of the first friends I met/made in NY when I moved there in 2005. I have seen all of his the various Brooklym apartments over the years, and seen how hard he's worked to perfect this collection. So, I'm very happy for him.


Joshua Marie Wilkinson has a new book, Selenography, from Sidebrow:

“an owl breaks the
fold a cut tree spills

a soft crutch

this dust
a freezer stocked
with I

to myself in these very woods.”

From evil duo that is The Pines:
PILE: The Pines Volume Six

10 pages
written by The Pines
in the back corner of a farm in Orfordville, Wisconsin
on each of the days of August 13th through August 17th, 2006

compiled into a small edition
and available here
or by sending $6 to The Pines, 15 Day Ave #2, Northampton, MA 01060

For information about previous volumes, please write to:


Ryan Murphy's The Red Coats is out from Krupskaya.


Also, you should have already snagged a copy of Bin Ramke's Theory of Mind by now. But you can read a new review at The Constant Critic by Christina Mengert. Or a review of it in the Boston Review by Craig Morgan Teicher.


It's already the afternoon, but I still need to read three articles, write a response paper, edited Saltgrass, and reorganize my own ms before sending it for blurbs. I survived my presentation on Cortazar. Remember how I was dreading it and acting like a hermit? These are the first two paragraphs of my presentation.

“But if I begin to ask questions, I’ll never tell anything, maybe to tell would be like an answer, at least for someone who’s reading it.”—“Blow-Up”

If the reader might look forward to an answer, we must first wonder what Cortazar thinks we’re questioning. I’ll turn to Walter Benjamin to ground Cortazar’s telling. Benjamin’s essay, “The Work of Art in the Mechanical Age of Reproduction (1935),” examines the concept of authentic art within the framework of developments in mass production, photography, and film. Benjamin writes of reproducibility, “In the case of the art object, a most sensitive nucleus—namely, its authenticity—is interfered with whereas no natural object is vulnerable on that score.” Cortazar’s early short fiction questions whether natural objects, namely humans, are actually safe from the destruction of authenticity, and thus, ownership of one’s subjectivity and historical testimony. Benjamin elaborates, “The technique of reproduction detaches the reproduced object from the domain of tradition. By making many reproductions it substitutes a plurality of copies for a unique existence.” Cortazar’s story, “Blow-Up,” detaches from tradition by employing neofantastic devices, playing with a poly-vocal narrative, and disrupting a fixed temporal plane, to show the reader that we may require a plurality of voices (both internally and externally) to respond to our age or reproduction. How does the reader in/of the modern world absorb this plurality? What happens to the narrative of self when the self is simultaneously observing its current surroundings, interpolating these movements, sliding back into memory, and expressing fleeting thoughts, while reaching out to others and moving forward?

For Benjamin, photography and film both have destructive and cathartic consequences because they enable the “liquidation of the traditional values of cultural heritage.” From this aftermath new models can be shaped. However, the accumulation of man-made objects, the growth of cities, and increased mass production “bring things ‘closer’ spatially and humanly, which is just as ardent as their bent towards overcoming the uniqueness of every reality by accepting its reproduction.” Cortazar explores what happens when people/things become so close that the artist enters the art, when the observer disrupts the observed and inserts himself into the image, and questions whether we can share this proximity. Without uniqueness of art grounded in tradition, Cortazar can consider what new perceptions can grow in its place, emancipated from ritual.


Last night Mathias re-potted our hyacinth plant, which had sort of jumped out of the pot it came in. Now I have hope it might survive. The new pot has a rooster on it, and better soil. Hopefully the hyacinth won't contemplate plant-suicide anymore.

Hyacinths remind me of mulberry trees, in that their scent is incredibly pungent, and sort of dominates any other scents in the room. I miss mulberry trees. Come home.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Prefab Press

Does anyone know a good Nocturne poem that I could teach 4th and 5th graders (no overt rhyming)? Please send suggestions! I'm floundering.

If you're in NY, you should go to this reading tonight!:

Monday February 15, 7 PM

Gerald Stern
Anne Marie Macari
Jericho Brown

11th Street Bar (510 E. 11th Street, between Avenues A & B)

Closest subway: L to 1st Avenue.
Also walkable: F/V at 2nd Ave, L at 3rd Ave or 14th Street / Union Square 4/5/6/N/Q/R/W/L.

Admission is FREE.

For poems & more about our readers, please visit our website:

Readers bio:

Gerald Stern is author of sixteen books of poetry include: Save the Last Dance: Poems (W. W. Norton, 2008); Everything Is Burning (2005); This Time: New and Selected Poems (1998), which won the National Book Award; Odd Mercy (1995); and Bread Without Sugar (1992), winner of the Paterson Poetry Prize, and Lucky Life, the 1977 Lamont Poetry Selection of The Academy of American Poets, which was nominated for National Book Critics Circle Award. His numerous awards include Wallace Stevens Award from Academy of American Poets, Ruth Lilly Prize from the Poetry Foundation, National Jewish Book Award, four National Endowment for the Arts grants, Guggenheim Fellwoship, and Pennsylvania Governor's Award for Excellence in the Arts. The expanded edition of his book of essays, What I can't Bear Losing, came out in September 2009 from Trinity University Press.

Anne Marie Macari is author of third book of poems, She Heads Into The Wilderness (Autumn House Press, 2008), Gloryland, and Ivory Cradle, which won the APR/Honickman first book prize in 2000. She has also won the James Dickey Prize from Five Points magazine. Macari directs and teaches in the Drew Low-Residency MFA Program in Poetry.

Jericho Brown is the recipient of the Whiting Writers Award, the Bunting Fellowship from the Radcliffe Institute at Harvard University, and two travel fellowships to the Krakow Poetry Seminar in Poland. His poems have appeared in The Iowa Review, jubilat, New England Review, Oxford American, and several other journals and anthologies. His first book, PLEASE (New Issues), won the 2009 American Book Award. Brown teaches creative writing as an Assistant Professor of English at the University of San Diego.


If you're not in NY, maybe you should stay home, write about Benjamin's "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction," and eat tacos. Or is that just me?


Some good quotes from Cortazar's Blow-Up and Other Stories:

“Always tell it, always get rid of the tickle in the stomach that bothers you (116).”

“…one is not going to explain to people at large that from time to time one vomits up a small rabbit. Always I have managed to be alone when it happens, guarding the fact much as we guard so many of our privy acts, evidences of our physical selves which happen to us in total privacy (41).”

“Habits, Andrea, are concrete forms of rhythm, are that portion of the rhythm which helps to keep us alive. Vomiting bunnies wasn’t so terrible once one had gotten into the unvarying cycle, into the method (42).”

No transition and no surprise, I saw my face against the glass, I saw it on the outside of the tank…(8).”

Friday, February 12, 2010

Introduction to 20th Century Poetic Manifestos Press

So, I'm trying to design a (hypothetical) course on 20th Century Poetic Manifestos. I have never designed an undergraduate course before. So basically, I don't know what I'm doing. Sweet. This is what I have so far in terms of manifestos. Please let me know if you can think of 1) manifestos not by dead white men, 2) manifestos that are important, which I've forgotten, 3) more recent manifestos (80s, 90s?)

Also, what are some questions you'd want the students to thinking about as they read the manifestos:

1) Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, “The Founding and Manifesto of Futurism,” (1909)
2) Tristan Tzara, “Dada Manifesto”
3) Ezra Pound, “A Few Don’ts by an Imagiste” (1913)
4) Mina Loy, “Feminist Manifesto” (1914)
5) William Carlos Williams, Spring and All, 1923
6) Langston Hughes, “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain” 1926
7) Gertrude Stein, How to Write, 1931
8) Antonin Artaud et al, “Declaration of January 27, 1925,” and “The Theater of Cruelty: First Manifesto” (1932)
9) Clement Greenberg, “Avant-Garde and Kitsche” 1939
10)Charles Olson, “Projective Verse” 1950
11) Frank O’Hara, “Personism: A Manifesto”
12) Jack Spicer, “Vancouver Lecture 1,” Vancouver Lecture 2” 1965
13) Larry Neal, “The Black Arts Movement” 1968
14)Lyn Hejinian, “If Writing is Writing” 1978
15) Charles Bernstein, “The Conspiracy of ‘Us’” 1979
16) Arielle Greenberg, “On the Gurlesque” 2002 (not really a manifesto, but still)
17) Anne Boyer, “The Provisional Avant Garde” 2009

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Let's Get Together & Impale Each Other! Press

Sunday is Valentine's Day.

I think because 1) I grew up in a family of atheists and there weren't any holidays that were more significant than people exchanging presents and saying "I love you" and "thank you" and "I love you," (okay, it is significant, but not in a religious way, or a way that extends outside of the immediate family hanging out) 2) when I was younger I loved the color pink, like in a hardcore way, and 3) because my parents were doting and let Valentines day get out of control because of my love for pink: Even though I know it's a fake greeting card holiday (but really, no faker than any other holiday), I STILL LOVE IT. Because my parents used to string pink streamers and pink balloons and let my 6 year old self eat a pink cake.

I have a Pavlovian reaction to the holiday.

Partly because I grew up thinking it was a day to tell EVERYONE you loved that you love them. Not just a boyfriend or something. Thus, unlike bitter people who hate valentine's day because they think it excludes people who aren't madly in love, I think it is a good day to call your grandma or an old friend who you haven't spoken to in a while. Anyways, this is just to say I like Valentine's day more than pretty much any other holiday.

Is it actually a holiday? No, I think it is just a pink day, right?

I realize that in posting this information publicly, there is no way I will ever be able to "play it cool" ever, ever again. So suck it:

Normally Michael Leviton plays a ukalale and croons about the ocean, sand, and whales. It's quite endearing. However, for the holiday, he released a video "You're Somebody Even if Nobody Loves You":

Here is a typical song called "Summer's the Worst":

or, "The Beach Gets Cold":

I've been looking for film interpretations of Cortazar's short story Axolotl. This might be the weirdest one:

Thanks to BR, I fell in love with this version of Blake's The Tyger.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Found My Month In the Knuckle Rhyme Press

At Coldfront, Stephen Burt reviews Mark Bibbin's The Dance of No Hard Feelings. Go read the review and then order the book.

Here are Carlo Farneti's illustrations for a 1935 edition of Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du Mal:

I started reading Catherine Wagner's My New Job (Fence Books), and am thoroughly enjoying it. Reading it is like sitting at an ancient desk, having your hands stapled to its oak surface, and then realizing that the desk is atop a car and the car is careening down the highway.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Couches, Tables, and Kittens Press

A Play In One Act
to be performed over gchat

E: do you play board games?
K: No.
E: I had this feeling you didn't.
E: Its called 'eleni and kate ask each other questions' and there is a board
K: Is there touching
E: only if you get the questions wrong

The End.

I had vegan buffalo wings for lunch.
I woke up at 6:45am this morning.
I made my own version of Orangina by mixing orange juice and bubbly water together.
I'm about to get on my bike.
I think this album cover is awesome:

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

My Lung A Canoe Caught In The Branches Of A River, Expands Like The Night I Learned To Swim In The Dark Press

I've been having really bad sleep because tomorrow I teach 4th and 5th graders Blake's The Tyger for the first time, and I'm incredibly nervous. So basically, sitting in front of 10 and 11 year olds scares me. Basically, I'm a wimp. Or as my mamma would say, Get Thee To A Shrink And Deal With Your Anxiety Disorder.

Soon, mamma, soon. First, I must teach The Tyger. I've been distracting myself with purple sweatshirts:

I've been alternating between reading Freud's case study of the "Wolf Man" and Cortazar's Blow-Up & Other Stories.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Packing Disguised As Unpacking Press

Sometimes a reading is so good, you spontaneousy grow a mustache:

I'm nearing the mood in which I want to watch Lost Boys