Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Been reading/listening to these folks ...

Jordan Stempleman

Kerri Sonnenberg

Aaron Belz.

Brief Statement on the Snow Leopard

Let it be known that on page 12 where the
description of the snow leopard begins, an
egregious error was made in its description.
In no way does a snow leopard resemble all
the demons of hell. It seems that a catatonic
fear set in upon seeing the snow leopard for the
first time, which results in a rather inaccurate
description. Also, on page 43 there is a long
pause followed by a blood-curdling scream.
What follows is an attempt to describe the gurgling
sound of copious amounts of splashing blood.
On page 67, a certain schlick noise is mentioned,
this is the sound of a can of cheap beer being opened,
as the hunter, much later back at the lodge,
found it necessary to consume a quantity of
said beverage when it was finally discovered
that he had completely lost the rest of his hunting party in
the bush. That was a completely different adventure, which
won't be elaborated on here, but let it suffice to say
that his ill-fitting shorts were riding up in the
crotch, which probably led to his finger grazing,
ever so gently, the trigger of his elephant rifle,
causing him to shoot himself almost nearly in the brain.
On page 69, when the aardvark is introduced,
the reader may wish to access certain reference books
in order to reveal its unlikely habitat in its
entirety. The likelihood of sighting an aardvark
atop such a mountainous peak was merely used
to lend page 70 a certain ambiance of horror.
If the stream-of-consciousness effect
which was employed on page 78 was a hindrance to the
narrative, the reader may insert these words
in place of the aforementioned passage, . . . god-
damned barnacles, wherever you go they're all over me!
Perhaps it should also be mentioned that the incessant
drumming that begins on page 112 is not foreshadowing,
but if the reader would like, it could serve to explain
the absence of any dialogue for the rest of the following

Read about the mimeo revolution.

Poetry Magazine publishes more prose than anything else…hmm…

Octavio Paz is not very happy with you.

Between Going and Staying

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.
All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.
Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.
Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.
The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.
I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.
The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause

-Octavio Paz

Raining Volvos

Moving magnificently she coos
some moon above us as Venus
cries, some aerodrome, these doves
pass a few crows, leaving
grossly an excuse to only show
the poem that is her mind.
She there chanting Om
as outside the frozen glow
of Ohio spreads drear calm knowing
that she is a monopoly full grown
and as impossible as raining Volvos.

Orbiting Planet You

If I could fondle your anesthetic, and

tell the forest leaves to quit their labor

then among autumn clocks I would quince.

Question: Are there enough thieves in

your ocean to echo twelve years?

And my shimmering voices wonder

about the quality of your amber.

But here in my studio of dreams

your heart is a candelabra of dice.