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Careless
Joseph Duermer has a thoughtful Plumbline School post that draws on a quotation from Gaston Bachelard. It hit me with the force of revelation, though there’s nothing new in its core idea—that “the true poem awakens the unconquerable desire to reread.” What this means, of course, is that poetry in this country doesn’t suffer from a lack of readers but a lack of re-readers. And why? Maybe it has to do with our long cultural history of preferring disposability over durability.Read More
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Opus into Opera
Here’s a fascinating radio interview with poet Dave Mason on transforming his verse novel Ludlow into an opera.Read More
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Another Simple Desultory Philippic*
One doesn’t have to look to the Paris Review or Poetry Magazine or The New York Review of Books for profound insight. Here’s a bit of wisdom from an interview with Sam Hamill—”poet, publisher, editor and translator, [who] co-founded the Copper Canyon Press in 1972″—published online at The Kearney Hub in Kearney, Nebraska. Hamill remarks: “The way of poetry […] shows us that our lives are simply an instrument of our practice. If we alter our practice, we change our lives.Read More
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A Blogger’s Notebook 9
NO CHOICE He intends only his own gain, and he is in this […] led by an invisible hand to promote an end which was no part of his intention. —Adam Smith The dangling puppetknows it’s a puppet.Is proudof being a puppet.Praises the strengthof that InvisibleHand up therewithout ever asking,“Whose hand?” The puppet—bound to the Handby tough strings(once jute or cotton,now nylon, even steel)—bows, struts, prances,doggedly marches,collapsesin a heap; thenresurrects to applausefrom the audience:also puppets.Read More
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Hello, Hoa
Hecate Lochia, by Hoa Nguyen. Bernadette Mayer and Alice Notley ghost through this collection, but Nguyen’s voice is her own. Some of it’s cryptic, some fascinatingly fragmentary, but never coherent in a mainstream sense. The difference may be utterly subjective. Here’s one example of each mode: Washington* Washington (George) is not inthis poem powdered wig powderyand anyway who chops down a fruittree (idiots) My sense ofhistory lies We buy things::::chickenwings::::::butter::::: Yesterday Dave took awaymy office my boss Saturday ______________* In line 7 the sets of colons number as shown here: 4 then 6 then 5. A puzzlement.Read More
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[Rude Joke Suppressed Here]
Rachel Loden’s extraordinary Dick of the Dead reviewed by Tad Richards. The notice is especially apposite for me because I finally got around to watching Frost/Nixon last week on DVD. The movie is terrific but far too kind to Nixon.Read More
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Kooser Spotlights Smith
Good to see Thomas R. Smith get some wider recognition.Read More
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Tightrope and Knott
When you start thinking about money and success in publishing poetry you may as well be a tightrope walker who thinks about falling. These and other illuminations, some regarding the esteemed, irascible, and tenderhearted Bill Knott, in today’s post on Bob Arnold’s blog, A Longhouse Birdhouse.Read More
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Laura Winter’s Abiding Attention
The line of American poetry that runs from Emily Dickinson to H.D. to Lorine Niedecker to Rae Armantrout is a vein of intensity and concentration that now must be seen to include an Oregon poet named Laura Winter. (I’ve named all women here, but the line I mean does include men, among them: George Oppen, Cid Corman, Robert Creeley, Ronald Johnson, and Carl Philips.) I received Winter’s latest collection Coming Here to Be Alone from the publisher, Ce Rosenow, who co-edited a recent selection of Cid Corman’s poetry with poet Bob Arnold.Read More
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A Secret Hymn
In one of my favorite used book stores, Fahrenheit’s, I discovered a poet unknown to me: Natasha Sajé. The book I picked up is Bend, and it’s a delight. Her poems are playful and often profound, but what I find most seductive is her music. Here’s an example: We Saw No Caribou except on metal signs, the cartoonedantlers ungainly, black against yellow.Read More