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Showing posts from August, 2011

Prosody and Other Fun Things

If you've ever struggled with meter, this place can help you out. I'm still here, just distanced for the moment from poetry. I'm writing two new stories for someone who solicited me, and banging away on my old novel trying to make it better for public presentation. What are you all up to?

John Wieners - Hyannisport, MA - 2.21.02 - Last Public Reading

Found at Silliman's blog , but worth reposting.

Clare Pollard, Poet

Clare Pollard is a English poet, and new to me. I read her book Changeling , from Bloodaxe Books in England recently, and was struck immediately by some refashioning of myth that so many people do badly, but not her, thank God, as well as some stark confessional poetry that hit me even more. It's Sextonish, yes, but with a contemporary and more cynical feel. Well worth the time to track it down, this book. Go forth and do what you must: consume. Adventures in Capitalism Nothing is real and I want it to stop. I cut my wrists, but the blood looks like make up. I slump in toilets snorting cocaine but it doesn't seem true, just a grimy dream. I wanted to feel , so had a tattoo done. I chose a sea-blue anchor near the bone, then saw it in a tabloid and felt a fake. Crashed a car dad bought me. Nothing broke. I went to see Othello swallow a lie and cried at the end, but it was only a play. Read some Rimbaud, bought a black polo-neck and