"Body washed like a thief..." / Two poems out in Anemone Sidecar

A functioning memory is best. Though forgetting is often the more respectful thing. And so, "The stars think I have a job but I do not." and "Anne Sexton," little beads that they are, can appear in Anemone Sidecar, Chapter #15, sometime this next week.

Also, knowing Nashville. Also, grand, spontaneous T-storms. Also, bug's bites. Also, calls from UNKNOWN. Also, basil. Also, birthdays. Also, poems for gifts.

"It is not articulation that decides..." / Poems soonly at Scythe

The Scythe folks have taken to summering a few poems for their #6. Hoo-rah gents, a cluster to chill with in your hot weather kiddie pools. "Living with the river," "Alamo Square Run," and "Champagne Villa-Lobos" are the pleasant ones wanting to get in their sun.

Also

'Pider submissions are going swimmingly, but we still need your vote (!) to repel the dismal tide. Send us a batch of poems, a few short prose pieces, 'art' (project/series, perhaps), 'music'... (we are a creative coterie, we wanna get into it, so send dat ish, homie).

Piderbits@gmail.com

"In the fast, clean Catacomb, Plank cuttings..." / Poems at Animal Farm

Dearest thou, such a long time has been passed, such things transpire in this country. I counted among those children who are the century. A few poems have made their way to Animal Farm, a New York quarterly putting out Orwellian slants, zealous poetry, writing philosophically/emotionally aligned to that other Animal Farm. Among whom I am glad to exist. Among whom I am a kind kind pig.

Recommended: Tim Shores' "CITIZEN ABSENCE".


Issue #2 esta aqui, until usurped by No. 3 within the next week or so, give a look, please do.

'Pider Announcement

We calls it 'Pider.

The Nashville temperament has initiated a creative endeavor of the poetic-artistic kind.

An online journal to put you in your place, 'Pider will put out only fantastic stuff, no exceptions ( which I guess is the policy elsewhere-everywhere, but does not seem the case ). The twin pole system in charge of harnessing this itty beast is I and Meagen Crawford.

'Pider seeks poetry, prose, short fictions, illustrations, lists, .mp3's, dream scribbles, transcripts of voicemails / the actual voicemails.

In the meantime, we're working on an imagiste-logo to get our thang in action.

And a manifesto.

Send 3-5 pieces to: Piderbits@gmail.com

Get Your News From HTMLGIANT

HTMLGIANT is a whole lotta magic for hosting articles like this one, by Christopher Higgs, on Judith Butler's Gender Trouble :

"If gender itself is naturalized through grammatical norms, as Monique Wittig has argued, then the alteration of gender at the most fundamental epistemic level will be conducted, in part, through contesting the grammar in which gender is given."

One is reminded of Gertrude, dear Gertrude, and the manner in which that language pulls your socks off then smashes your toes. Tender Buttons subverts, re-reorganizes written language that consciously revitalizes the text and forces an active social re-definition of its function-end. The reader moves from passive vessel to active participant in studying the invalidity of the lame, traditionalist binaries of signifier/signified, denotative/connotative, masculine/feminine, reader/author.

Evening Will Come, #4

Dan Beachy-Quick has a nice rant on poetry over at Evening Will Come: A Monthly Journal of Poetics that is highly recommended, over coffee, tea, old Marlene Dietrich, neighbor-lawnmowering, cigarette, dog-petting, et al. "What did the poem teach me? How to break it." Julie Carr has a good piece too, giving substance to Birth ( "that other epic," instead of the male poets' War ) in determining poetics.

I enjoy the scarceness of visual stimuli there, an image of the author leans on the title of the work on their main page. No clutter or stray blam-o's to misdirect one anywhere else. I want to return to the land of images (!)

"I'm learning to play the pickax ..." / Poem over at elimae

A chunk of the long poem, "Someone Face Like The Sun / Was On Our Porch Last Night," will soonishly appear over at the nimble, certain-handed elimae.

The buzzy connection of less-lengthy poetry and fiction ( as well as reviews ), elimae puts out an electronic issue every month. I am gained of swag, the correct type, that occurs in April or even May. Holland is nice this time of year: I'm glad for them there.