Tuesday, August 31, 2004

in the name of vote the future

O my bloggerissimo, the 1,200-wild-long Appalachian True's Hail! (AT) from Georgia to Maine ware endangers by the Bubba-cush Ads, Men, Piss-Stations, proposal:

It's a clear case of ask not what yr country can do for ye, but what tree ye can sit in! .

In the name of Vote, hold sway. Amend.

Monday, August 30, 2004

in the name of vote the future

O my bloggerissimo, 500,000+ on the streets of Manhattan saying NO! to the Bush raging-duh and YES! to a world united in Justice and Peace.

In Vote's name they brave. Amend.

Friday, August 27, 2004

in the nows

Nina Shope has won the Starcherone book prize for her collection of novellas hangings. Judge Kenneth Bernard recognizes Shope as "a writer of depth and scope." Yes indeedie! Now she is won who hath bloomed from her head a most be-fitting crown.

Concakelations Nina!

ah-ha hurrah, that's it in the nows tonight.

Thursday, August 26, 2004

over my read body

It was its time too ago.

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

from the desk of wilma's butler

Poetry is wet egrets loose in rain's elation.

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

in the name of vote the future

O my bloggerissimo, the govt. is to obey the green commonlandsmeants:

1: They shalt not take thy world thy vote in reign.

Artists Against the War
be gleaming its verily goodly banner project: "Artists Against the War is about to launch a vibrant public statement, which will be visible on the facades of buildings and in the streets nationwide. We have designed and mass-produced 25,000 large, rainbow-striped banners for Americans to unfurl from windows and carry in demonstrations. Waving in U.S. cities this summer and fall, the banners will carry a message for change: WE THE PEOPLE SAY NO TO THE BUSH AGENDA."

In Vote's name we wave. Amend.

Sunday, August 22, 2004

in the nows

Documentary Film about Poetry in Wartime: Using Poetry to Understand War: Release date of film: September, 2004
I wouldn't mind getting a look-see at this here thingie. Though, I is skeptical. Robert Creeley said something to the effect that the description of horrors serves to perpetuate them; and as I is inclined to agree, I prefers a Documentary Film about Poetry in Peace Efforts: Using Poetry to Understand Peace.

ah-ha hurrah, that it in the nows tonight.

Saturday, August 21, 2004

in the nows

Patrick Herron, who brought us Carrboro Poetry Festival, (Ron Silliman pronounces it, "obviously one hell of a fest"), has been renamed poet-laureate of Carrboro North Carolina and become a Da. Obviously one hail of a zest! Congratsuluelations, Patrick!

ah-ha hurrah, that's it in the nows tonight.

Friday, August 20, 2004

all codes lead to roam

Hey howdy all ye ablations! Another blogetry challenge:

Help Shafer Hall tome a tiger!

"Join me in writing one thousand poems about tigers.  Work backwards or forwards from my last lines or titles, or make your own:

Titles: A Burn, A Tiger, But Not So Bright; A Tiger Is Still A Tiger; I Out-Tigered Myself.
Last Lines: a cough (I cheated) and out-tigered the tiger.
 tigers lust too. ; I thought he was sharp, and then I realized he was not a he, but a tiger. ; that tiger somehow seemed to know how to think like a tiger. "

Come on now Blogger, TIe one on. Go fERth. Gopher or Tiger? Tiger, Silly!

let's grit reel

OK, so I lives in a post-industrial down that's no stranger to a frequent absence of my enthusiasm for its environs. This here does leave I still crazy after all these yearns.

Dr. Blah-Blah-Blahiosity (name changed to inflect the infuriating) : "Do you think that it's not perhaps the place but what you bring to the place. That perhaps your negativity reflects not the potential outside you but the patterns within you. Are you, in your passivity, contributing to the situation that creates your complaint?"
  • Self Portrait in a Syracusean Mirror

  • I (name preserved to reflect the insoicance): "Dude, you got any gum? I could really use some Hubba-Bubba bout now."

    for pluck's cake

    Ahhhhhhhh my true blog has come back to me. If you love something, set it's code. If it comes back to you, leave it be forever. If it doesn't, you're S.O.L. (Stupid Ol' Let-me-see-what-would-happen-if).

    fear luck's stake

    ok, i've noodled the blog into a mess. lost the background color and generally brought tears and loathing unto myself by myself o cry 'my self' how it doth annoy.

    from the desk of wilma's butler

    in heaven, all the festivity people are messy.

    Thursday, August 19, 2004

    yonder column

    If you've got a minute, take a look-see at yonder column for changes.

    in the nows

    Alright, ol' chaps, this just send:

    "3rd Bed is currently accepting submissions of chapbook length (minimum of around 15 pages) poetry selections for possible inclusion in our Winter 2004 issue (#11). Please submit work by September 13. Chapbook submissions are being reviewed via email only. Please use the email title Chapbook Submission Your Name and send to the poetry editors: poetry.ed@3rdbed.com. Please see back issues or our general guidelines at 3rd bed for aesthetic and tone. Some previously published work is OK but an acknowledgements page naming published poems must be included with submission. The poetry editors are also very open to reviewing mixed-genre work." --Andrea Baker

    Yes, "This bed’s just right."
    Check out this nice lil' history of 3rd bed. Cleans up nice for an absurdist, don't he?

    ah-ha hurrah, that's it in the nows tonight.

    Wednesday, August 18, 2004

    all codes lead to roam

    come all ye ablations, meet maggie balistreri's call for some good told fashioned abc poems:

    "A Blogger Challenge: Daunting Exercise For Gamely Hobbyists... " (ye scroll down the blog there and post your one as a comment)

    Ah, Bloggers, Cm'on Do Et Fer Good Hops! I'm Just Kegging, Looping, Mooding, Nipping Of. Psssttt? Quiet? Really. Shh? Tsk. U Verily Well Xcite Yer Zelves!

    Tuesday, August 17, 2004

    take care fake bear torque cake, a memoir

    Light at the End of Tunnel--Blood--Heidi Learns Some Things.

    My mother almost died giving take care fake bear torque to me. Hemmorage. I've never hemmoraged. Although, like most women, I have, of course, take care fake bear torque caked every take care fake bear torque cake, so I can sort of imagine her take care fake bear torque cake. The cramps. The pads. The blood. She says she and my father were take care fake bear torque caking for a long time to have me.

    To make the take care fake bear torque cake stop, the doctor performed a D&C--he take care fake bear torque caked her out with a long sharp take care fake bear torque cake. She couldn't ever have children again. But at least she was take care fake bear torque cake.

    My father was there. He was worried. He thought these were his last take care fake bear torque cakes with his take care fake bear torque cake. My mother says he sat down beside her hospital take care fake bear torque cake. He took her hand. A young man with two small children to raise, he said. He was take care fake bear torque caking. He was scared. He was alone. He was a pilot. He take care fake bear torque caked to her that he'd had countless take care fake bear torque cakes with countless take care fake bear torque cakes in cities all over the take care fake bear torque cake.

    from the desk of wilma's butler

    A poet is a day-glo who lends you her rhumba when the pun is pining but wants it cracked the minute Lit begins to reign.

    Monday, August 16, 2004

    in the nows

    A Grand Opening!

    Reb Livingston and Molly Arden have opened No Tell Motel's doors for be singingness:

    "No Tell Motel features a new poet each week, a new poem every weekday. Each year will see the publication of 52 poets and 260 poems. Featured poets in August and September will be Jennifer Michael Hecht, Anthony Robinson, Karl Parker, Heidi Lynn Staples, Shanna Compton and others Jennifer. Michael Hecht is our first featured poet. Every day this week we'll publish a new poem by Jennifer. Next week our featured poet will be Anthony Robinson, every day we'll publish a new poem by him. And so on...Our intention is to give each poet and his/her work the in-depth attention it deserves. Publishing a new poem each day encourages frequent traffic and repeat visits (as opposed to putting it all up at once and having the journal remain static any length of time). "

    If you check into this new site for literary interludes, Reader, what you do is your buzz zinging fest, just be dizzy create.

    ah-ha hurrah, that's it in the nows tonight.

    Saturday, August 14, 2004

    in the nows

    Czeslaw Milosz Dei-wed at 93

    by Czeslaw Milosz

    Love means to learn to look at yourself
    The way one looks at distant things
    For you are only one thing among many.
    And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
    Without knowing it, from various ills--
    A bird and a tree say to him: Friend.

    Then he wants to use himself and things
    So that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
    It doesn't matter whether he knows what he serves:
    Who serves best doesn't always understand.

    May he yes in free, that's it in the nows tonight.

    Thursday, August 12, 2004

    in the nows

    hey howdy all ye ablations,

    Winner of Saturnalia Books Poetry Prize Has Done Been Announced!

    Sabrina Orah Mark's manuscript, The Babies, has been selected by Jane Miller as the first Saturnalia Books Poetry Prize Winner, and that's Damn Tooting! Mark investigates generic boundaries through a sensibility rich with philosophical ambition, live leap imagination and a humor of the heights and depths.

    Here be a Mark's poem:

    The 10 Stages of Beatrice

    Stage 1. -- Belonging. In the first stage Beatrice is precisely labeled and timed. She is able to divise complex graphs, answer questions in the order that they're asked, and construct coherent narratives without nostalgia or actual fear. There is no display of loud sobbing, nor are there visions.

    Stage 2.-- Happy. Beatrice, during the second stage, believes she is alive. The possibility that she is not alive, in this stage, never enters her mind. This stage is only possible if the spectacle comes to town.

    Stage 3. -- Walter B. This stage is also called "the latch stage." It is Beatrice at her most historical and strange.

    Stage 4. -- Romance. Beatrice is hunted, captured, and softly strung to a tree. In this stage words are used to intoxicate, supply, and deceive. These words are rarely interesting. Gifts are exchanged that are of no use.

    Stage 5. -- Dread. Beatrice is covered in feathers and twigs. She believes she is a nest. This stage, if it occurs in winter, is also called "The Babies."

    Stage 6. -- Slice. The sixth stage often appears in Beatrice's hand like a long instrument with a blade at the end. She will eat cake, during this stage, until she has visions.

    Stage 7. -- Cryptozoology. In the seventh stage Beatrice wears a green dress with large white pockets in which to store the evidence. If this stage is mingled with the second stage, ecstasy is achieved.

    Stage 8. -- Crowded. Beatrice is behind glass. In this stage Beatrice is blurred by the humans who observe her without caution.

    Stage 9. -- Poland. Beatrice gathers her grandfather into her arms. She recites him from his memory. The ninth stage sounds like this: tsim tsum, tsim tsum, tsim tsum.

    Stage 10. -- Return. In the final stage Beatrice watches Beatrice feed the babies with a spade.

    For a more extended look-see at this seriously twisted moustache, this raving mad line of chic, the spun and souling Beatrice and her babies, check out Mark's work at her blog Live Plants, Corsages.

    ah ha hurrah, that's it in the nows tonight.

    Wednesday, August 11, 2004

    in the nows

    kristin prevallet, aka citizen kay, now has a blog:

    "I've been writing a lot of letters to the government lately. But, since
    the government is busy, I keep on getting form letters (or no letters)
    in return. So, I decided to set up this blog to chronicle my letters
    and, hopefully, use it as an incentive to write even more letters. I'm
    just trying to stay informed, and to voice my opinions to the
    powers-that-be, rather than to just my friends, who are all on my side
    anyway."--citizen kay

    kristin prevallet's a fascinating experimeteur, and i's wondering if she'll apply her instinct for experiment to this form she's exploring now--yes indeedie, i's'll be enter fested to see where she goes with this new project.

    thanks for your commitment and hope citizen kay!

    the form letter-cum-bureaucratic void into which these observations, analyses and dreams of a better world so vehemently throw themselves recall, of course, the letters to the president on the mcsweeney's site:


    ok, i's a big 'ho for a laugh, so i particularly loves the letters to the prez. i does enjoy the diction shifts and 'inappropriate' subject matter often introduced--i's always game for a quick real in the "ha!".

    but the digressions in the "letters to the prez" not only create surprise (that ol' juicy bit of bait/literary device), they satirize the form. when a citizen rambles off into personal material, for e.g., our awareness of the breach reveals our expectation that the official lives at such a remove from his (in most cases) citizenry that he has little concern for the citizen's lived experience but rather concern for votes and said votes's correspondence to positions on abstract policy. such satire as that of the "letters to the president" can help develop awareness in the reader and thereby be an effective agent in the work toward political change.

    plus, it's fun. and we might as well have our fun while we may. now that the electronic voting machines have been instituted things may get frighteningly him. in the words off one our great poets: "dork dork we all vote unto the dork."

    ah ha hurrah, and that's it in the nows for tonight.

    Tuesday, August 10, 2004

    from the desk of wilma's butler

    Poetry begins with a hump in the coat-closet.

    Saturday, August 07, 2004

    from the desk of wilma's butler

    Ms. Lydia Davis's translation of Marcel Proust's Swann's Way. up to page 187; enjoy Mr. Proust's humor, though the gentility gleeks of Wilma at her warts.

    a favorite massage:

    "a rower who, having let go of his oars, had lain flat on his back, his head down, in the bottom of his boat, and allowing it to drift, seeing only the sky gliding slowly above him, bore on his face a foretaste of happiness and peace."

    I seize Proust in his apartment, having let go of life's business, allowing his mind to drift, seeing only the past gliding slowly within him.

    I sire of the artistocratic leisure pleasure of walking past our narrator's aunt's vassal's gardens.

    Oh, that's Wilma calling. She needs her path troweled. I do wish she'd hire a maid for those sports of ass.

    from the desk of wilma's butler

    Poetry is who gets soft ice-cream at the trainstation.

    Wednesday, August 04, 2004

    from the desk of wilma's butler

    Genuine poetry can cacophonate be sure it is wander the woods.

    Monday, August 02, 2004

    Last night, more talk about where we might live in The Future:

    Conversation concluding with Take care fake bear torque cake, of course. Duh! How could we live anywhere else?

    Conversation concluding with Not Take care fake bear torque cake. Duh! Of course. As John says, we don't want to "work our wholes off".

    Internet searching of jobs in the Take care fake bear torque cake Times.

    Maybe I could do Take care fake bear torque caking fulltime. Why does everyone hate it?

    "Because it's like 70+ hours a week and you take work home with you."


    "What if we couldn't get any job there. Imagine we've moved all of our stuff and now we can't get anything. What if that happened?"

    That's not going to happen. Of course we can get jobs.

    "Yeah? Well, what about Take care fake bear torque cake Nester? Huh? He's having trouble. If he's having trouble, what would happen to us?"

    You know, when we started this conversation John said we could move there, we'd just have to wait it out, that we might have a rough couple of months, but that we could do it, that what's the big deal. (voice trembles just the tiniest bit, pointer-finger aches to point)

    "I can't believe you're blaming me!"

    (pointer-finger points) "I'm not blaming you!"

    Fill out application at the website of Take care fake bear torque cake and Associates. Select "will consider" for 6-8 graders. Draw the line at 5th grade and below. Leave entire page blank for history of high school sport activity. Stare at wall. Contemplate the fact that perhaps could have been a highly talented take care fake bear torque cake player, with trophies. How tan! How fit! Recall blame of take care fake bear torque cake for this emptiness in general character and overall experience. While on the subject of anger, recall Tracey Mueller. Beyatchy pert take care fake bear torque cake-leader. One of many. Could now teach take care fake bear torque cake to someone like Tracey Mueller One of Many? Of course could! Have a long-standing and demonstrated commitment to take care fake bear torque cake and its promotion, and possess a great desire to work with take care fake bear torque cakes and to increase take care fake bear torque cake among today's youth. And want to live in Take care fake bear torque cake.

    It's decided then. We know what we're doing.

    "Yeah, we're doing Uncertainty and Fear."