sickening

It occurs to me that I should have said something about this when it started bothering me. After all, the point of this blog was to chronicle the trials and tribulations of poets. Sometimes that means writing about small and large injustices.
Many people I know continually use a certain friend of mine. I want to mind my own business. . . but that isn't easy when it's right in your face all the time. I will call the used friend Benvolio.

Benvolio will do anything for you. He doesn't mind if you call him in the middle of the night for a ride home, to Oregon, to Orange County, or even to Mexico. He doesn't mind paying for the gas either. When other people flake on a job that needs doing, he doesn't mind doing it. If you need a meal, he doesn't mind cooking it for you. It's great having a friend you know will be there for you. I don't think I've ever asked Benvolio to do anything for me, but it's comforting to know that I have a friend I can count on.

Benvolio knows he's being taken advantage of. Because of all the things he has done for others, he has no way of paying for the things he wants to do. He spent all of his money on other people's gasoline. Of course, he doesn't mind.

I brought it up with a person I thought was my friend, and she got very defensive and attacked me for pointing out the problem. I know I should mind my own business, but how many times do you need to see pictures of sweatshops in China before you get pissed off about it? How many times do you need to hear about the atrocities in Darfur before you want to do something about it?

See, it's not about Benvolio, it's about the ones who take advantage of his generosity and kindness. The tree doesn't mind if you chop it down, and the dog doesn't mind if you kick it, but it doesn't mean that it's all right to do either.
And it reveals a flaw in your character if you do.

Poetry Tonight and Tomorrow to be Taken Aurally

Tonight, Watchword Press and Instant City are bringing their best to Pegasus Downtown. I am looking forward to it. It starts at 7:30. If you see me there, please be nice. You can buy my book there. . . that would be nice.

Tomorrow night, there is even more to do at Pegasus. There are a million things to do in the East Bay tomorrow night, but I don't think that any of them will be as great as coming out with us to Pegasus to see/hear/experience Naomi Guttman and Robert Lipton.

Ale√s Debeljak Reading and Chad Sweeney and Parthenon West

The reading last night was good. There was a class there who had obviously been forced by their professor to come, but they were mostly Japanese exchange students, so it was a nice addition to the reading I thought. It forced everyone to behave just a little differently. It added something to have a couple dozen Japanese kids taking notes while the poets read, something.

The poetry was good and everything, but I wanted to say something else about the reading...

Chad Sweeney, whose poetry I have only read in Bird Dog, is one positive, supportive fellow. Too often do you meet someone or give someone a book only to find that they've forgotten who you are and never even thought about reading your book.
Usually, positive and supportive comes off lame and cheesy, but Mr. Sweeney seems able to navigate the poetry world just fine without any air of cheesiness or lameness at all. And it seems quite genuine. Such a trait is truly admirable, methinks.

To confess, I have never read an entire issue of Parthenon West. I will now.

Anyway, I had a great time at the reading last night. I enjoy the freshness of being in an audience with first-timers and someone like Lyn Hejinian. I mean that it's nice to see veterans with newbies sharing an experience. Not to be sentimental about it or anything. . . it's not like it was touching or anything. .

It was touching.

Studio One

Sara Mumolo is teaching a poetry class in Oakland at Studio One. Many of the art classes held this summer seem super splendid. Taking classes in the summer is a great deal there because it costs less than it does during the normal year. What else are you going to do this summer?

Bronwen Tate and Late Night/Early Mornings

When I am writing, I can't sleep. It is rather difficult write in one's sleep, but what I mean is that I am unable to sleep because I write. I am always writing. . . in my head, you know? Anyway; ; ;

I spent much of the night pounding on a typewriter and reading poetry with Sara Mumolo. I have been trying to find a typewriter of my own, but it is proving very difficult. Why? Because I am nearly broke. Poetry prize money comes too seldom and disappears too quickly. Sara has a nice typewriter. We took it to White Horse but wouldn't pay the five-dollar cover they wanted. So we met a friend named Vincent and dragged him with us for poetic stuff.
It was a long night.
Got home late. Didn't sleep until around three, which isn't a big deal, but I woke up at six.

Waking up at six in the morning with poetry and the previous night's booze in your head is a horrible feeling. I decided to cure it with coffee and doughnuts and Bronwen Tate.

Bronwen Tate has a very cool name and a nice blog and a nice book called Souvenirs. I read it as the sun clamored over the park and dogs chased various flying objects. The book is nice and friendly and sweet. I would recommend it to anyone who likes nice, sweet, or friendly things. I enjoyed it very much this morning. It was just what I needed. I believe in the idea that there is a right book for a right time. Souvenirs was just right.
Bronwen has a good blog. She's just moved to California. Her blog links to samples of her work.

I'm all Syrupy

Yesterday, I spent a good deal of a good day with David Larsen's Syrup Hits. Of course I enjoyed it immensely. There hasn't been anything that Larsen has come out with that I didn't like on some level. I mean, I even thought the Asiatic lion translation project was pretty cool. Syrup Hits is a little older, and it's a bit hard to get a hold of, but if you live in Berkeley, and/or you know Clay Banes, and/or you are amazingly cool, you can get a copy eeeeasy.
It occurred to me that David Larsen is like a DJ. Not like your DJ at the local Adidas shop or whatever, but like a real DJ. A super multi-talent, like Kid Koala. The kind you hear about and think must be lame but is actually freakishly awesome once you go to a show.
Syrup Hits and his latest effort, San Francisco Sound, are a lot like that. I looked inside and thought, "oh no; another guy trying to make poems and cartoons get in bed together." But I was completely foolish. . . which is a feeling I've got used to and now embrace. Larsen's work is mixed media and all, but it doesn't feel forced or distracting like some of the picture/poetry stuff that's come out lately.
I understand the urge to put pictures next to text. After all, that's how we usually see words, companions to photographs. But poetry should be able to stand on it's own. So if you have a Pablo Neruda book, you don't really have to stick Pablo Picasso drawings in there. It might make it a little more attractive in the store when Jennifer and Cindy are flipping through it, but it's superfluous noise, really. It doesn't add anything to the poetry. Images cannot complement or compliment poetry.
Gary Sullivan reinterprets poetry with little cartoons. That's different. That is transformation, not accompaniment. Like a cover of a song. I like covers of songs. Even if they suck, it's fun to see how a musician has reworked or "reimagined" someone else's piece.
OK, but Larsen beats Sullivan and all cover artists to the punch. The images are the poetry. His books are the song, the cover, the remix, and the scratch. That is exciting. That is totally worth calling Pegasus Downtown for.

Syrup Hits is from Kenning Press.

Even More Things to Love

If you haven't seen Paris, je t'aime yet, you should probably look into the mirror and ask yourself why you haven't. It is something you're going to want to look into. I know you don't want another person telling you to go to a movie you haven't seen, but with all the crap out during the summer, this wonderful summer of love, Ifeel that I must take the responsibility. I find myself watching DVD's from time to time, and I ask myself, "why the hell has no one told me about this movie?" I don't want you, dear friends, to suffer the same fate.

Speaking of films to love, here is one of those clips that make all the hours you've spent on youtube worthwhile. . . in fact, it justifies the 7 billion dollars Google spent buying it.
John Cassavetes smacking the crap outta Ronald Reagan.

•••••••••••••••

Poetic love:
I picked up a tiny little zine a-little-while back, and I wanted to tell everyone how much I enjoyed it, but it's hard to convince people to go out and buy a little zine. . . plus, they're hard to find. You can get one on line though at their website: animalsleepstories.com. I haven't read all of them, but I would like to. . . and will. It's a long summer. Also, I think that their website is rather lovable.

Rock! Paper! Scissors!

One more thing to love this summer is the Rock! Paper! Scissors! Collective.

I love this place. Sometimes I come down here to read zines in their library. It's a great place to be inspired and think about things. Plus(!) it's right in the middle of all the great art galleries of Oakland and very near Mama Buzz. It isn't very close to where I live, but it's worth a bus ride.

If I had a million dollars, I might just give it to them.

Things to Love in Summer '07 and Last Night's New Yipes

NEW YIPES
William Alexander's play was the headlining act at New Yipes last night. It was a little long, but if you like William Alexander, you'll love Conduction in the Catacombs.
I personally found David Enos very entertaining and would have stolen his book if there was one on the table.
The films were also quite fun.
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Things to Love

1. Chelsey Minnis's new book, BAD BAD
2. The new poetry mag: Abraham Lincoln, ala Anne Boyer and K. Silem Mohammad
3. David Larsen's new fully full half book: San Francisco Sound
4. CA Conrad's Frank Poems
   
5. Jack Morgan's new first book: Your
6. Pegasus Downtown is still having readings.
7. There is a lot more time to read and write.

I have, for example, read almost too much poetry. Last night, I reread Exobiology as Goddess (not all of it) just to revisit a little William Alexander. I was dreaming in big non sequitur terms.

I am walking down the street repeating "being with you is like" or "rocking the" from Minnis. I love Chelsey Minnis. I am reading her Zirconia again.

I will stop writing now before this becomes one of those weird reading diary blogs.

New Yipes is for Lovers

And it's tonight with one of those poets you kind of have to see in order not to die sad.
William Alexander.
New Yipes is at 21 Grand.
21 Grand is on Broadway and 25th.
Broadway and 25th is in Oakland.
You should go.
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This week. Man.

Poetic Posters. Conservatives.

So,
I set up this blog: Poetic Posters so that people can see some of the work I have done in poetic circles with graphics.
Some people want to see things like that from time to time, so from time to time I will post another poster or other thing that I have created in my futile attempt to promote poetry and broaden its audience.

I also kind of wish that someone like K. Silem Mohammad will stumble upon it and say something like this: "by George! I would like to have Jack Morgan design the next Abraham Lincoln cover."

Or someone equally cool.

I would like to do covers and layout of books of poetry. I would like to spend a lot of time with the work and then produce something visually that ties it all together in a way that makes children cry at the ensuing beauty.
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"Conservative"
I think that some poetry gets even more of a bad rap than the rest without good reason.
Psst. I like Carolyn Forché and Tess Gallagher.
I have never heard a reason good enough to stop liking them.
I hear their reading style is something that I would hate, but I haven't seen either of them, so I can't really form an opinion without going onto youtube, and I won't do that.
Forché as horror tourism is a bit rough because no matter what her motives are to travel to war-torn countries and write poetry about what she sees, I would rather have a poet there than government-sanctioned reporters and military personnel. I think poems and poets have always been saying interesting and important things about war and political conflict. It might not always be for good reasons or even true, but that's all right.

Gallagher is cool, too, I think. It's easy to make fun of her, I guess, but I think that many of her poems are rather intense. I've never met anyone who has anything nice to say about her, but I think that most of them haven't read anything by her, so I refuse to think that I am wrong on this.

I have been running into this a lot lately. A lot of people spout off about shit they have never read. I've read a lot, but when I haven't read something I say so and admit to my obvious lack of opinion. I guess it doesn't matter much. People have probably always been doing this, and nicer people don't say anything.
Sometimes, people I respect make fun of poets and writers I really like. I know they've read it, and I know that their opinion is valid, so it's hard not to feel a little embarrassed when our opinions are not the same.
I wonder if I've missed something. I wonder if I'm wrong. I panic.
Later, in listless contemplation at 3:15 AM, I think about whether they wonder the same.

also!
I am petrified by the prospect that some day someone will call me "safe" or "dull" or worst of all, "vanilla." I hate that vanilla has become synonymous with bland. I worry about this more than I should, but I don't know how to avoid it. Remember when Madonna was like the craziest thing out there? Can you imagine how bad it must feel to be her right now? Rich and bland. Maybe it's the money. It can't be age alone.
So, when people use such adjectives to describe Gallagher and Forché, I think they must be right, and I am a bland and safe poet.
From now on, I will use the f-word in every poem I write.
I will also use lots of dingbat fonts and symbols.
I will also write more about genitals.
So I can be "experimental" like everyone else.

My Name in Lights / Questions about Poetic Geography.

I got my name in lights with notcelebrity.co.uk

A couple of days ago, I was walking down my street and Joshua Clover zooms past me on a bicycle, right past a cop who promptly spilled coffee all over his front like that officer in the tower on Top Gun.
Then I saw Trevor Calvert sitting around on a corner.
Then I saw Ben Lerner walk by on the other side of the street.
Then I saw Sara Mumolo.
All these poets all over. I live in Berkeley. I like it there. I used to want to move to the Mission in San Francisco, but I want to live in Oakland now. Is it just me, or is there a lot of phonies in the Mission? I could be wrong, but it seems like their bars are kind of lame. It seems like the people who live there don't like talking to one another.
I hardly ever see poets in the Mission district. Sometimes, I guess, but not like here. The scene seems a bit more authentic in the East Bay.
Maybe I'm wrong.
What's the name of that neighborhood that's supposed to be the new Greenwich Village now? I can't remember. But I think that I would like to be there more than the place that's known by all to be the cool place to be. Oakland is not supposed to be the place where poets and artists congregate to create and compare tattoos, but it is. San Francisco's Mission district is supposed to be THE place, but do you really think that's true? Is it not a bit pretentious?

I love the Mission, by the way, but live there? Hmm. I like visiting too much.

Your.

My book, YOUR, is out. You should get one.

Pegasus in downtown Berkeley, on Shattuck, has them, but there are not many.

I know you will love it.

K. Silem Mohammad Day, Cont'd.

Hovercraft was wondrous. It's one of those books that I read and loved, but couldn't figure out why I kept reading it and loving it. Sounds like most of my relationships, actually.

Abraham Lincoln was so good that I shat myself.

The combined effect of these little books just causes one to lose control like that. Try it.
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I liked these two poets especially.
Katie Degentesh
Sharon Mesmer

Maybe you will, too.

Bluelips

Last night, Sara Mumolo and I, Jack Morgan, read at the Eleanor Harwood Gallery in San Francisco.
It was wildly good, I must say. The more readings I do, the more nervous I am. I am going to do fewer of them. Thank God it's summer. More writing, more silent reading. Mumolo was calm and collected as a book of stamps but way more exciting. I love her new suff very much, and I always like to see her reading in front of a crowd.
John Chiara's photos were awesome, too. It was cool to be let into that little section of the art scene. I don't know much about photography, but I like to hear people
talk about their work even if I don't understand everything. It is always exhilarating for me to be around people who are passionate about what they are doing. It's a refreshing respite from the other type. I wanted to go inside of his camera. He has a massive camera that has a trap-door. I am going to start going to other types of talks and readings. I need to. A man does not live on poetry alone, after all.

The ladies of Article Journal, Kim and Daria, are completely splendid, and the gallery was filled with visive art that impressed all. Eleanor Harwood was super nice and stunning. I wish that I could thank everyone so I will: THANKS EVERYONE!

Tomorrow night, Xantippe release is happening at Pegasus. I will be there. I hope that you will be there, too. Four readers! How will they do it?

It's been windy. Reminds me of change. And leaving. And the Call of the Wild.

Tonight, tonight, oh oh oh, we just might make it.

So I didn't really sleep much last night. I don't sleep most nights very much, but this's a little different.
Today is a busy day, and I will be reading tonight in San Francisco at the Eleanor Harwood Gallery.

Like this:
Jack Morgan and Sara Mumolo will read their poetry at the Eleanor Harwood Gallery tonight and tonight only at 7pm!

This will be followed by a wonderful display of photos by John Chiara.

1295 Alabama St. near 25th St.

Oh me oh my!

I think that it should be jolly good.

Wouldn't it be cool if you could make it? Yes, it would; I think that you should.

We could all die tomorrow and then you will never have seen such freakishly good-looking poets read at the Eleanor Harwood Gallery; wouldn't that be a shame?

Last Night at Pegasus w/Stein and Wagner

Last night was a nice little reading with James Wagner and Suzanne Stein. A lot of people were there who I like. It was nice to see them. It was nice to see Norma Cole, too, who is always the only one I get star-struck about. Did I ever tell you about the night I fell in love with Norma Cole? It was at the Barbara Guest memorial tribute at the Unitarian church. The room was filled with spectacular poets, and she was the one that I walked away from thinking, "holy crap! she is entirely amazing." Sorry to say that I didn't know who she was back then. That's not surprising because I hardly know anything, but it was so refreshing to discover Norma Cole like that, reading someone else's work.
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Ben Lerner is one of the coolest poets in the world. He helped me out with a huge favor that I was embarrassed to ask. This is the second time he has come through for me, and he hardly knows me. The bay will weep when he leaves us for Pittsburgh, a town whose name no one ever pronounces the way it's supposed to be, like Berkeley, but not as warm or floral. I do hope that he is able to fit another bay reading in before takes off for colder climes.
+++++++++
Today I finished Vocoder, Judith Goldman. I know it's kind of old by now, but I dig it so much that I wanted to tell you so that, if you haven't read it, you can go out and procure a copy of your own. Judith Goldman was at Pegasus last night, but I hadn't finished her book yet, so I didn't want to say anything to her; a little weird, no? I'm a weirdo, I guess.

K. Silem Mohammad Day.

K. SILEM MOHAMMAD DAY!

Yesterday, I went to Pegasus. Whenever I am on the west side of Berkeley, I go to Pegasus. If I have money in my pocket, I usually leave it there.


Of course, there was a copy of K. Silem Mohammad's Hovercraft, so I had to have it; it's a little hard to find, and I kind of have a thing for his work at the moment.

Then, Clay's like, "you know how you asked if we were going to get Abraham Lincoln? Guess what just came in!" So I had to get that, too.

I dig it much, especially our friend David Larsen's (LRSN) hyper-chic cover. One more thing to be jealous about. Since I met LRSN, I have been jealous.