Friday, July 29, 2016

Ace Boggess

“Are You Morbid?”
                                                                                               
                                                —online quiz


I spoke to morticians on the phone each day
as though I ran a helpline for those who knew
too much about grief to feel it. Some
sounded like timid strangers in a quiet room
as they rattled off their litanies of names.
“Melody Anderson,” one would say,
“age sixty-four, went to be with the Lord
at St. Mary’s Hospital,” not stopping
to joke—as we in the newsroom did—
Jesus must have been waiting in the ICU,
resting with a post-op morphine drip in the next room.
Funeral directors found nothing funny—
their job to comfort survivors,
mine to get words right: names,
children, spouses, special friends.
I talked to plotters as though we were
intimates ourselves, mourning over
mass graves covered in newsprint
black. One brought me a Christmas tin
loaded with cookies the other reporters
wouldn’t touch. I ate plenty,
not part of the press at times like this,
so much as customer service. 


Ace Boggess is the author of two books of poetry: The Prisoners (Brick Road Poetry Press, 2014) and The Beautiful Girl Whose Wish Was Not Fulfilled (Highwire Press, 2003). His novel, A Song Without a Melody, is forthcoming from Hyperborea Publishing. His writing has appeared in Harvard Review, Mid-American Review, RATTLE, River Styx, North Dakota Quarterly and many other journals. He lives in Charleston, West Virginia.

Saturday, July 23, 2016

LNP Manifesto

     In trying to sum up what our aesthetic at Live Nude Poems will be, we are drawn to the idea and function of poetry.  In our opinion, we’ve always believed that poetry must serve a purpose – to enlighten, to explain and by doing so, bring a greater understanding of self.  We have a job to do as poets, even if only to better know our own humanity.  We're certainly not here to argue what art is or why we write.  We write because we have to, and the work is unique to each of us.  Knowing that, we would like to showcase poetry that breathes and presents moments in time, work that helps us understand you, tells a story, changes the reader--if only for a second.

All New Live Nude Poems!

My wife and I, the poet Heather Sullivan, are changing Live Nude Poems. Instead of my inconsistent postings about poetry and its concerns, we've decided to  refocus LNP on other poets and their work. 

Another poetry journal, yes, powered by Blogger, the kindness of our hearts, and a great deal of experience between us. Look for a manifesto soon. 

If you have any questions, please mail us at livenudepoems@gmail.com.

Thursday, September 24, 2015

HATING THE OTHER KIND OF POETRY

Originally published in Copper Nickel, this is a fascinating short article by Robert Archambeau about poetry wars and poetry politics: who is accepted and why. Well worth the short time it will take to read.
1. This is not a how-to guide
It isn’t quite a how-not-to guide either, but I suppose that’s closer.
2. “What you should be doing,” or: the limits of disinterest
A few years ago, when the Conceptualist poet Kenneth Goldsmith was making big waves in the little demitasse cup of the American poetry world, I wrote an essay that tried to explain what his work had to offer and what it didn’t. The email I received in response was gratifying in quantity, if bewildering in content. I’d tried merely to describe Goldsmith’s work, but I found I was condemned for having praised him, praised for having condemned him, praised for having praised him, and condemned for having condemned him—all in roughly equal measure. The uniform distribution of responses on the chart of praise and blame gave me some reassurance that my attempt at mere description hadn’t unintentionally become a clear act of advocacy or disapproval, but it also confirmed my suspicion that people were not particularly inclined to view as innocent an essay that did its best to remain neutral: an agenda, the thinking went, must lurk just below the surface. I am not so na├»ve as to believe that truly disinterested inquiry is possible, but the notion that we may approach disinterest asymptotically—like a curving line that comes ever closer to another line without ever touching it—was clearly alien to a literary audience that had been through several decades of the hermeneutics of suspicion. Only M, a critic from whom I had learned a great deal over the years, and who had always been kind to me, saw the essay for what it was, or tried to be—and she didn’t like it. “What you should be doing,” she told me, “is making a strong case for the poetry you believe in, and against the poetry you don’t.” She’d been doing exactly that for decades, and I knew people who revered her for it. I also knew people people who all but spat when they said her name. More.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

NaPoWriMo Draft

Country Bullshit Childhood


written after hearing off-mic news announcers make fun of some people I could know


poof

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Another NaPo Draft

And this one is really drafty. Somehow I'm invoking God in these last few poems, and I don't normally think in those terms, because I'll wither if I do. Anyway.


Signs