Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Octopus number 7 has three of her poems which I found really interesting.
The middle poem, "Out of the House of Bondage," has a real Aase-Berg feel which I enjoyed. I am thinking of the famous Aase Berg Guinea Pig Poems
Monday, September 29, 2008
to be the awful
people we are
or the kinder folks
we could be"
(I remember, completely off-subject here, how when George W. first ran for president he kept calling us "folk," kind of like McCain keeps calling us "my friends." I had no intention of "politics" here, but then that word, "folks," just started ringing a bell in me....)
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
People mean well. Then they grab your dog. Two girls are carrying a cage full of kittens. I’m supposed to find a rock. She’s on top of me. There’s a child in a ditch. Talking to God’s like jerking off. It doesn’t matter how many times. Before he was cut into pieces. The day he was hanged. Winter’s folding into a Boeing 747. I can feel the cells in me strengthening.
this is a poem (?) I read at So and So last Saturday Night. It is an index, collage, whatever, of first sentences from Holy Land. If anyone ever wants to publish this they'll have to deal with the fact that it's on this blog. And that an MP3 file of it's on 10 CDs I gave away with the purchase of my book there in Boston and then again in Cedar Falls, Iowa this past Thursday. (which by the way, Iowa, CF, that is, is a great place to visit. Enthusiastic, friendly teachers and students. Friendly even to me, a die-hard, and I will die hard--yeah, yeah, atheist like me.)
1) screw you
2) send me some better graphics (same content, tho) and I'll consider them. seriously.
but I kind of like the fruits of my extensive labor. we'll see. blah, blah.
This blog is here now because of a bowling injury I suffered. Justin Marks was there. Chris Tonelli. Starkweather too. This is all sad and pathetic. Even more so when I admit that I bowled a 108 and then a 126. Anyways, I am resting, now. Doctor's orders. And blogs are born of rest.
i want to keep writing, so, i won't,....