Well, howdy.
[[now with an updated, archival link]]
February 23, 2008
February 20, 2008
The World Keeps Turning, says Tom Waits
I am in the midst of moving. Usually, a move inspires a major clutter-purge, but I did one of those six months ago; all that remains, conceivably, is to trim down my book collection. The odds of that? Slim. Once something is signed to me, I can't bear to get rid of it. Perhaps I can rationalize that I need those books as raw material for when I sort my shelves according to spine color...
There Is Nothing Wrong in This Whole Wide World
(Installation by Chris Cobb, Adobe Books)
In my new place I've got a platform, maybe 10 x 10 feet, that I'll be able to set up as a writing area--complete with a hodgepodge of shelves (I'm hoping to vary color and height, but keep them all wood). All I will need, in the middle of it all, is the comfiest possible chair in which to sit and read. And possibly this monotype, by Dorothy Anderson Grow:
I'm a fan of her work--I already own one piece. This one makes me think of the patch of gin bottles in the woods behind Edna St. Vincent Millay's house. If you're in the DC area, the Washington Printmaker's Gallery is holding a reception for Grow (with a 3 PM gallery talk) on Sunday, March 2, from 2 to 5 PM. I'll be busy moving that day--but because my new apartment is just down the street, I hope to pop in for a bit. Location, location, location.
There Is Nothing Wrong in This Whole Wide World(Installation by Chris Cobb, Adobe Books)
In my new place I've got a platform, maybe 10 x 10 feet, that I'll be able to set up as a writing area--complete with a hodgepodge of shelves (I'm hoping to vary color and height, but keep them all wood). All I will need, in the middle of it all, is the comfiest possible chair in which to sit and read. And possibly this monotype, by Dorothy Anderson Grow:
I'm a fan of her work--I already own one piece. This one makes me think of the patch of gin bottles in the woods behind Edna St. Vincent Millay's house. If you're in the DC area, the Washington Printmaker's Gallery is holding a reception for Grow (with a 3 PM gallery talk) on Sunday, March 2, from 2 to 5 PM. I'll be busy moving that day--but because my new apartment is just down the street, I hope to pop in for a bit. Location, location, location.
February 14, 2008
Rocking the Boat
The 2007/8 edition of DRUNKEN BOAT just went live and damn, am I excited to be a part of it. Any time a poet gets a chance to showcase three poems, it is an honor.
But in addition, the editors have created a very intriguing "Poetics" folio. As explained here, they chose dozen poems from the issue--including my poem "Orchis"--and asked experts of various other fields (architecture, fiction, lit crit) to respond to the poems of their choice, the overall portfolio, and/or the state of contemporary poetry.
First off, what amazing company: Nathaniel Tarn, D. Nurkse, Ron Padgett, Lisa Spaar, Jeffrey Skinner, Camille Dungy...holy hell. I feel like the knock-kneed little sister, tapping on the clubhouse window! Second, this is just a nifty idea, the kind of cross-genre thinking that gives Drunken Boat its charm.
The person who goes most in depth into examining my poem is...Stephen Burt. He of the mysterious and thrilling Harriet references. Seriously, I've never met this guy, but now I'm dying to. Thanks also to Rand Cooper, Chiori Miyagawa, and Okey Ndibe, for their senstive responses to the poem.
For those curious, the reason I called it "Orchis" (rather than the more direct "Orchid") was that I had come across the Greek myth of Orchis (son of a satyr and a nymph), who--after attempting to rape a priestess during one of Bacchus's festivals--was torn limb from limb by vengeful beasts. From his remains sprang the flower, the orchid. That's the myth that drives the ending narrative of the poem.
The myth is relatively obscure, though, and looking at the response essays--particularly that of Chiori Miyagawa--I can see that it is a source of frustration to the readers. There's no broad-base cultural awareness of the myth in the way that "Leda and the Swan" can take advantage of the Zeus myth. And I hate it when poets demand that their audience seek out background info in order to "get" a poem. So should I have embedded a more explicit connection?
I'd love to know how people feel on this issue, as both readers and poets. And I'm very, very grateful to Ravi Shankar and the other DB editors for creating the space for this kind of dialogue.
But in addition, the editors have created a very intriguing "Poetics" folio. As explained here, they chose dozen poems from the issue--including my poem "Orchis"--and asked experts of various other fields (architecture, fiction, lit crit) to respond to the poems of their choice, the overall portfolio, and/or the state of contemporary poetry.
First off, what amazing company: Nathaniel Tarn, D. Nurkse, Ron Padgett, Lisa Spaar, Jeffrey Skinner, Camille Dungy...holy hell. I feel like the knock-kneed little sister, tapping on the clubhouse window! Second, this is just a nifty idea, the kind of cross-genre thinking that gives Drunken Boat its charm.
The person who goes most in depth into examining my poem is...Stephen Burt. He of the mysterious and thrilling Harriet references. Seriously, I've never met this guy, but now I'm dying to. Thanks also to Rand Cooper, Chiori Miyagawa, and Okey Ndibe, for their senstive responses to the poem.
For those curious, the reason I called it "Orchis" (rather than the more direct "Orchid") was that I had come across the Greek myth of Orchis (son of a satyr and a nymph), who--after attempting to rape a priestess during one of Bacchus's festivals--was torn limb from limb by vengeful beasts. From his remains sprang the flower, the orchid. That's the myth that drives the ending narrative of the poem.
The myth is relatively obscure, though, and looking at the response essays--particularly that of Chiori Miyagawa--I can see that it is a source of frustration to the readers. There's no broad-base cultural awareness of the myth in the way that "Leda and the Swan" can take advantage of the Zeus myth. And I hate it when poets demand that their audience seek out background info in order to "get" a poem. So should I have embedded a more explicit connection?
I'd love to know how people feel on this issue, as both readers and poets. And I'm very, very grateful to Ravi Shankar and the other DB editors for creating the space for this kind of dialogue.
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