"Heavy and of no account"

now tumbling:

babypoetmonster.tumblr.com

the Modern bird

possibly the birds
can sense the expanded air with more intense flight.

on Failure

which is muddy; persistent, but not done shaping itself.

thinking about multiplicity, post-gender, monstrosity, body-failure...

i would recommend anything on this site.

i'm going to let things stir; waiting; 8.25.2013.

i plan to write, but i may fail.

in the meantime:

"Clarice Lispector wrote a sentence in Portuguese. Idra Novey translated it as, 'The unsayable can be given me only with the failure of my language.' I’ve been thinking about how best to fail in this piece. And in failing come to say this thing that I haven’t been able to say. Or maybe not even to say it, but to talk around it for a while, ambling. I wonder if doubt can drive a narrative. I wonder: how queer is doubt?"

from John Pleucker at Evening Will Come, and then:

"When I proposed ekphrasis as an operational model for ARTPOP, I was attempting to embrace what was already apparent before 'Applause' dropped: namely, Gaga’s play with concepts of failure and faltering – which importantly sets this new work apart from the 'It Gets Better' drive of the Born This Way period. It is in this lust for failure that Gaga truly has the potential to excel. Not only because she is acknowledging current opinions about her or her (literal) bodily failure that forced her to take time off, but because it engages with a crucial part of the queerness of Gaga’s work."

Roland Betancourt, at Gaga Stigmata.

let's see what happens.

Three poems

April 2, 2013

Lately, the days are pastel shades of tiny bits of money

Little prices, small moments of clarity (even smaller)

Do not shrink yourself, even in the full moment of sharing combat

They say most things come down to small, medium, or bigger than you need

*

Reaching back into the first moment of the first month of forgiveness

          for Jess

Nevertheless, a letter. a fit stanza of grief. a big bunch of words

having a fit, throwing a party, turning invitation into convulsion.

daily, we know about anger—its contours, trifles, ruffles—

beautiful dresses of anger trailing behind muscle, too much dress

for the anger, too much anger, never enough clothing to hide

the arms of a shivering, angry gash. the sleeve in which i place

my arms one by one, until eventually they line up.

*

Possible titles for a poem I may write today

                                                                        after Jess

“Love’s big ugly.”

/

Not sure about the title for this one, but the poem would revolve around the nodding and the sturdy head.

/

Perhaps the difference between anger and regret, but not within a poem (where to put it then?)

/

“The impermanence of severing.” As in, do I even believe in it? Does belief in the various parts of the body (torso, feet) liken to belief in severing? What is so important about belief?

/

The list of things my voice is not or a list of quiet bones, unheard bones, angry bones, listless bones, bored bones, self-conscious bones—not just muscles—and a list of all the body parts one might use in a fierce attack (e.g., the eyebrow as a vane for buckling knees, the elbow as silencing a male-dominated room, etc.). The poem might end with both the room and the bones upsettingly quiet.

/

The habitual misreading, and so a poem about quiet homes, bored homes, a self-conscious home—not a home made of muscles—and the fierce home of the voices which always already speak. These are the voices/bones which will become the quiet room, ideally.

 

The Next Big Thing

As an upcoming (read: any second now) dancing girl press author, I thought I would take Kristy’s general tag seriously and attempt my own version of this Big Thing business:

What is the working title of the book?

My chapbook is called a meadowed king.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

About a year ago, I was applying for graduate programs and ultimately decided on the University of Maine, where I’m currently finishing up my first year as a Masters Candidate with emphases in Poetics and Creative Writing. During the summer while I was still in Oregon, all the current and incoming poets of the program were invited to submit a manuscript to the Edna St. Vincent Millay Prize for Poetry. After putting together a manuscript that felt whole and realizing that it was about chapbook size, I decided to send it to Kristy at dancing girl, and was fortunate enough to have her accept it shortly after. 

What genre does your book fall under?

Poetry, with a hint of teenage girl séance meets Space Invaders.

What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?

Leo DiCaprio, ca. Growing Pains.

What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

“In the middle of a tiny spot and nearly bare there is a nice thing to say that wrist is leading.”

How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

I wrote the title piece, “A meadowed king”—a longer poem consisting of 12 movements—during the process of applying to graduate school. David Lau, who was giving me advice on my writing sample, reminded me to keep writing during the tedious process of filling out applications and applying for teaching assistantships.

I recall one evening in particular where I took a break from grading sample student papers and, with David’s advice in mind, started reading my new copy of Heather Christle’s The Trees The Trees, which turned out to be one of those books that would stick with me in a really insistent way. Those poems have been ringing in my ears since then, but I remember them ringing especially loudly when I composed “A meadowed king” during the following week.

Soon after, I realized that the poems I’d been writing during previous months were in serious dialogue with this new piece, which came to feel like the destination point of my writing at the time. Then the Millay contest came along and pushed me to make sense of that stirring dialogue, and the manuscript was probably put together within the following month.

Who or what inspired you to write this book? 

I definitely recognize certain experiences that had immediate influence on the kind of poetry I began writing around this time. Some of the visiting poets who read at Emergent Forms during my time as an undergrad at SOU had significant influences on me, such as Sandra Simonds, Mark Wallace, and the above-mentioned David Lau. When Dana Ward visited and read from “The Crisis of Infinite Worlds,” I went home and wrote the opening poem, “A musical occasion for falling through.” Sawako Nakayasu’s Texture Notes inspired me in a way quite similar to how Christle’s book did. Stein is in my chapbook in more ways than might be obvious, and I spent a good chunk of time at SOU writing about Tender Buttons, defamiliarization and the sounds of her words. Traveling to Japan with my ex changed the way I navigate unexpected social interaction, which has everything to do with writing poems.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

If you like pages (holding them, turning them, etc.) this might be for you.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency? 

dgp4life.

I'd like to tag Jess Rowan, Zeke Hudson, and Aaron Pinnix.

夢は～

昨日の夜、the cover of my chapbook を夢を見た。まんがみたいだった。Like panels from a comic book. 二つ panels。まずは、女が車の前で。ちょうど出したかもしれない。Coming toward the viewer. 次は、in panel two、女がせっきんで、左に回した。彼女は、プロフィールの体を見えた。Being cut off by the borders of the frame, her profile. 急いだった？And if so, why?

the Modern bird

Simile is only one bird who comes down, too easily.