Sunday, March 11, 2012

Top Poetry Picks

These are the poetry books that have impressed me the most so far this year. None are 2012 publications.

Rod Smith's "Deed"

Gil Ott's "The Whole Note"

Michael Gottlieb's "The Likes of Us"

Craig Watson's "Sleepwalking With Orpheus"

Frank Sherlock's "Over Here"

William Fuller's "Three Replies"

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

White-haired Melody, a novel by Furui Yoshikichi

I am being deeply affected by this quietly but profoundly meditative narrative. Full of subtle musings and observations on themes of aging, madness and death, the book is also full of the distinctively Japanese appreciation for the myriad joys and beauties to be found in the commonplace and quotidian. It's a terrific example of how a novel about nothing can be about virtually everything.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

"elegan trogon" from How's the Cows by Jess Mynes

pitch a fit snow recedes
lops red carpet hickey heart
intersects forget-me-not distant body
mining emergent designs
animate trepan stare-off
written on her Chucks
superheroes loom closer
to why sea anemones wink slyly
spiky thrushes tip wishes
mapping your bending spine
when it ceases to be valuable
finish to release a grip grown suspect

How's the Cows can be purchased here

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

A Little Poem


While tricycles of fat destroy lip parades
On the lecture circuit,
Gnomic genocidal peace laboratories
Crash the party.

Entangled tribes of infected speleologists
Convene another ecstatic remedy
Of growth and hegemony.
They allow no movement.
Our leaders have flown the coop.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

J. H. Prynne's Red D Gypsum from the collection Furtherance

Here's a pretty representative excerpt from the amazing Red D Gypsum----

Top-work the frame to chalk white yet against less
clear tremolo flotation, sudden demerged racing
downsize nutrient plume to risk appetite so born
at here D plate mirror swap pleas can never shine;
depleted words all light and gladed in picket fault
back flattened silently. Crimpen interfold your
spectrum yellow, taunted now slippery bright, red
gully regained through the wood rewound in felt.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Peter Seaton's The Son Master

An exerpt from the long prose poem The Son Master
by Peter Seaton----

To which, to take charge, this feature could be any idea of the need for a substitute for an advantage
over the sound fracture plate extended rather than dug out, and I could use white line looks to a wall of dark
red stone. The shape of one too is so hard that to take charge we had all survived. The elastic remains in the
eyes to clear it over. This is a preposition, a possible sight of everyone's appearance without the business people
touching. Great logs of the moon used also for legs, light complicated by catastrophe instructions, to move
somewhere with a bang and a knock out of us, we know enough. Knocked flat near the conventional center,
rest and have dinner and wait all morning so it must have been the rain that fell. The machine cares, but those
two can be the same, the moon experience of space of sky throwing out dance and dance invasion.