I love this poem from a recent issue of NER. The pace of the line breaks and stanzas is riveting. And the blurring of tenderness and violence, love and murder is very well done. Reading the contributor's notes, it looks like the two poems in this issue are this poet's first published poems. Pretty cool, huh?


Solution to an Outdated Crossword

Emotional violence is
my favorite kind of violence.

After all, the heart is
the bloodiest organ.

Desire is the tender cup
behind her kneecap.

Love is something else.
It is not the game, maybe,

but the dice, loaded,
and the mugging that follows.

You will stab yourself between the ribs.
You will dislocate a tender kneecap.

Sometimes, you will just have to set out down a dirt road
alone in the dark with a rifle.

One night my father's father was reincarnated
as a jack-o'-lantern.

A love of mine carved out his eyes.
I scooped the orange mess from his skull.

We lit a candle together
and were happy for a night.

But don't be fooled.
The solution to every murder mystery is . . .

a good question. Actually, that is what love is.
It is the solution to every murder mystery.


-- Henry Kearney IV

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Solipsism n. 1) the theory that the self can be aware of nothing but its blog. 2) the theory that nothing exists or is real but one's blog. -- From Lihn Dihn on Harriet at PF.

Sarah Palin? What was McCain thinking? Has he gone totally senile? This is possibly the worst veep choice since Bush Sr.'s idiot-deer-in-the-headlights Dan Quayle. From what I understand, Palin's a very conservative right-wing pro-life nut-case, with a mere two years experience as a governor of Alaska, and zero foreign policy experience, who is hell-bent to drill for oil in Alaska. Jezzus! Part of me is smiling, because I think this will effectively hand the election to Obama. The plot thickens . . .

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And in poetry news, er, ummm, hmmm, sorry . . . I got nothing'. But there is this announcement about the Great Art Party, to help support Floating Bridge Press:

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Hello Everyone,

This is just a reminder that tickets are on sale now for: The Great Art Party! A fun fundraiser to benefit Floating Bridge Press, a non-profit supporting Washington poets.

We have 150 artworks and we are selling 150 tickets. When the party starts we begin drawing numbers randomly. When your number is called you simply go up to the displays and TAKE the piece you want. Easy, fun, no bidding, and everyone goes home with art!

All work is valued between $90 and $2,200! Premium Tickets are only $100. A limited number of $300 Sapphire tickets will be sold, allowing you to pick from the high-end Sapphire section with work by Dale Chihuly, Francisco Goya, Steve Jensen and many others. Pictures of work can be seen at our website: www.fbpevents.com

This all happens 6:30 PM Friday, September 5th at the South Lake Union Armory Building. For tickets and more info call Jeff Crandall at 206-353-9148.

We need to get the word out, so please forward this to your friends. Thanks!

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The fifty faces of Michael Jackson. Now that he is about to turn 50, watch how his face has changed over the years. It's fairly horrifying. And more than a bit sad.

http://www.popeater.com/music/article/michael-jackson-faces-50th-birthday/144833?icid=200100397x1208558391x1200460464

The Four Tribes of Art

Got the link to this article from C Dale. I have seen this formulation before, and I think it is a fascinating way to look at things. I think I would place myself somewhere in the upper right quadrant: tradition, content, life, truth -- somewhere in there. Where would you place yourself?

I love these sculptures by Cecilia Miguez, that I saw in a gallery in Vancouver. Figurines with parts from wood and metal tools added to their bodies. Some of them made into timepieces. Some of them made into books. Very dreamlike, very disturbing. But doesn't all good art disturb in some way?

Got this from Christopher.
I am usally a prety bad speler.
I wish this survy showed me wich ones I mised.

Your Common Spelling Mistake Score: 90% Correct

Your spelling is excellent. You don't fall for common spelling pitfalls, and you spell almost everything correctly.

Do You Make Common Spelling Mistakes?

Some pics from Vancouver:

Since getting back from BC I've been following the Stacey Lynn Brown/Cider Press Review poetry drama here. I don't know any of these people personally. But reading the posts and emails -- and looking at it from the perspective of someone who has been both a small press poetry editor and a winner of a poetry manuscript competition -- it seems like it was a toxic mix of a poet over-involved in the details of the production of her book (needing to control the blurbs and the cover image and the presence of an author photo or not, etc) and a press that was not willing to compromise or listen to reason.

What is lost in this, to me, is the poems. What were they about? I really want to know! Did any of this have any real effect on the poems? Or was it just an argument about their packaging? Was it just a series of misunderstandings about a table of contents and an author photo and some wording of blurbs? Or was it more than that?

It's fascinating theater. Perhaps a bit of a tempest in the poetry teapot? But it's all we've got, I guess, as poets. We give ourselves to our work, and our work is given to a press, and we hope and pray they will represent us well. Most of the time it works out. Occasionally (as CDY and others can attest) it does not.

I am late to this story, but read thoughtful commentary at Collin's, Reb's and Barbara's and elsewhere.

Our last day in Vancouver today. We need to pack up and get back on the train this afternoon. Dean is currently bent over his luggage, looking like he is doing CPR chest compressions, as he tries to pack in his clothes. Why does it always seem like more when you are going back home?

Had a fun day yesterday despite the constant rain. We took a huge umbrella from the hotel and walked together arm in arm underneath it for most of the day, window shopping downtown and going to galleries. Tres romantique! We saw this amazing exhibit at the Buschlen Mowatt Gallery, where there was one of those old LOVE statues from the seventies next to this amazing metal sculpture a sitting man all made of letters of the alphabet (the picture here is of another version of it located in somewhere in Spain). It is by Jaume Plensa, who is a from Barcelona. If I ever get a second edition of WWotB I'd chose it for a book cover.

After dinner we decided to go to the Cathedral across the street to hear Gregorian Chant before bed. We are not very religious at all, but we love the sound of those male voices singing acapella. We were so bummed that it was an all-women group! It was beautiful, but just not quite the same. And the guy with the incense looked like Igor, and he was smoking the whole place up. People were coughing, and we had to leave.

Having a great time in BC. Vancouver is such a great town for walking. The West End in particular. I am just amazed at all the high rises here, with little parks and gardens tucked in, and all the people out on foot (not many fat people here!) We've seen a lot of sites and probably eaten more than we should, but what the heck. I showed Dean the new library, a kind of modern coliseum-shaped building (I read there at AWP a few years ago). Stanley Park had a bunch of downed trees from winter storms, and parts of it looked like a disaster area. Took a tour bus around the city and sat by some French Canadians, who were a little non-plussed that the tour was not translated en Francais for them (they didn't know I understand French pretty well, and speak it a little, and it was fun to eavesdrop on their conversation . . . hehehe). Yale town has really become a hot trendy place, full of new condos and restaurants and shops. We had Dean's birthday dinner there last night, with K and B. A relaxed 3-4 hour multi-course feast, with good old friends, We could talk all night. Walking back after, Granville Avenue was closed to traffic, and there was just this huge blocks-long street party going on. There air was cool, but still easy to walk in short sleeves and slacks. Vancouver has such an eclectic mix of ethnicities and cultures. I just love it. I think it is a vision of the future of the world.

Gay Dads

First Clay Aiken, and now Ricky Martin? What is going on with the world?

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About to head out of town for a long weekend, to Vancouver BC by train, to celebrate Dean's b-day. The big 7-0. Can you believe it?! I hope the sun decides to come back. Even if it doesn't we'll be fine. Vancouver is such an amazing city. Very worldly and sophisticated and "European" in many ways. If I ever had to leave America (like, ya know, if that old fart McCain wins the election and we stupidly invade Iran and I just can't take it anymore), I would definitely consider moving to Vancouver.

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Lost Bob Dylan prose poems resurface with 60's Hollywood photographs.

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College Professor vs. Prison Guard. Who earns more? You may be surprised (I was). Check it out on the "Blue Collar vs White Collar" Salary Smackdown.

Though, of course, some may wonder what is the difference between a college professor and a prison guard, I think there is a lot of difference.

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Woman building home from a Boeing 747

This looks very cool. Though it is not finished yet, the artists renderings of the final project are amazing. Wouldn't you like to live in a plane?:

You might have to do a double take, but it's worth it. This home was constructed out of parts from a Boeing 747.

There are hundreds of airplanes that have been mothballed in the deserts of California and are sold at the price of their principal raw material, aluminum. This 747 home represents the single largest industrial achievement in modern history and its abandonment in the deserts.

Not only is the final result breathtaking, it's an environmentally friendly home, too.

Had a lovely dinner with friends last night. Gin & tonics and grilled hamburgers and corn on the cob, as we sat out on the back deck. I love eating outside in the summer! Afterwards we walked across the street to the neighborhood concert in the park. The Jim O'Halloran Quintet was playing "Afro-Latin Jazz." Elva Pope, cane in hand, came on stage to sing a few songs. Her voice is still just amazing. Even little Anneka at 9 mos old loved it, and was rocking back and forth, trying to crawl and/or dance.

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The finish of the women's Olympic Marathon was riveting and inspiring. Wow. 38-year old Constantina Tomescu-Dita was just amazing. She pulled away and held on. My only question is what was in those capsules that she was breaking and sniffing? Smelling salts?

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And in other news, yet another Seattle poet wins a book award in Poetry. This time, it is Andrew Michael Roberts, winning the Iowa Poetry Prize. To be honest, I've never heard of Andrew, but wish him congrats! And yay for the home team.