*Poetry In A Time of Crisis*
Mexperimental (Heriberto Yepez) {click here}

Cartoons for readers
check out Gary Sullivan's
Plop takes {click here}

notebook: 10/2/86

The Buddhists got it almost right.
It's the desire that others
do something that breeds illusion
(fantasy).
The universe answers all questions
with light.

notebook (untitled fragment): 3/24/87 12:30 am

Ten minutes after reading the by now familiar poems of A
I'm aware of how an ease in the sense of communication
Between his poems and their imagined readers
Suspends the moment of the poem - almost infinitely-
The listeners as an infinity of echo chambers
Fragmenting the remembered words and rejoining them
In an endless *assemblage* of intimate materials.
The poem frankly admits its status outside the needs
Of practical discourse, pulls over a chair and an ottoman
And elects to hold forth. "Words describe, people mean."
First, to find out about and hold on to-
To repeat and remember
Every day- easily slips away, into the
Torments of the righteous,
The wish to return punishments for slight.
Such a conversation is a touchstone, a lightning
Rod for admitting energies- a kind of circuit that
Can run from one person to another by means of spoken words
Which far transcends their immediate impact.
Such energy is occasioned by the ceremony
Of conversation, the constant background of thought.
Also, if you feel the need to exagerrate to make your point
This must be parly because your imagine that you
Lost the attention of your listeners.

Gary Sullivan {click here} on collecting
*American Splendor*

"Don't remember the dream I had,
angle dangle, coffee in the morning..."
from nemski.com (4/18/04) {click here}

"��Un blogue est un livre sans fin dont l'auteur
écrit sans cesse la première page pour des
lecteurs continuellement en attente de la dernière."

from Frenchement! {click here}

via mediaTIC blog - actualite du blog et des blogs {click here}

My very rough translation:

"A blog is a unending book in which
the author keeps writing the first page
for readers constantly waiting
for the last."

notebook (poem, untitled): circa 1987

The paradox is
Is that if the truth is imagined
All things false that folloow
Are like images distorted by snowy mists
A poison in me that has to get out
Of this individuality
But, I am confused
What you told me of sorrow
Does not demand my solitude
In your graces after thought
Time spells out your name indefinably
And I am tortured
My pain flies out like gulls
Fleeing choppy waves
And this is a caress
Behind my gentle hand
Lies aangry schoolteacher
Demanding silence

Wednesday, April 28th, 6:30 pm
Mei-Mei Berssenbrugge, Renee Gladman, and
Cecelia Vicuna

VERLAINE BAR

110 RivingtonStr
(bet Ludlow & Essex)
New York, NY
(212) 614-2494

Laughing Meme {click here}
presents an obsessively-
and riotously- researched discussion
("autopsy") of that
seemingly unstoppable blog rage:
the "page 23 sentence 5" meme.

via Boynton {click here}

The Dullest Blog in the World {click here}

Got a postcard from Dave Hess who
was visiting the Elvis Presley Museum
in Memphis, Tennessee. He also
mentioned the the Blues Museum in
Clarksville, Miss. It seems that
Howlin' Wolf used to crawl around
on all fours barking like a dog.
Hearing from Dave about 50's rock
stars was amazing to
me partly because the book I am reading
now, *Buddy Holly is Alive and Well
on Ganymede* by Bradley Denton
(I got a signed paperback edition of
this terrific 1989 Science Fiction novel
at Ivy's outside $1 bookshelf
on the Upper West Side) is custom made for 50's
rock and roll freaks like me. Buddy Holly
was one of my favorite stars- I saw
him live playing with the Crickets quite nearby
where I am living now, and where I went to
High School, at the Brooklyn Paramount in 1956.
In the book, Buddy suddenly appears on everyone's
tv set, evidently broadcast from Ganymede, a moon of
Jupiter. Nice bit of time travel. Thanks, Dave!

notebook- 2/11/86

Time is signified by weather-
weather passes, life passes, so
does time. Outside the bank
things accumulate, not time,
a singular occurance is the whole
pure emptiness does not exist-
enfolded among imaginary stasis
despite the opposites
of joy & strife-
moment to moment

Timothy Liu and David Shapiro give a reading

Medicine Show

549 West 52nd Street between l0th and llth

3rd floor $6 cover

Wednesday April 21st 7:30

Please come

notebook: (poem) c. 1986

(politics)

Noise substitutes for continued defiance
absent relative appears on t.v.

Ply it out of the fumes of victory
pull meaning from its roots
this is different
rosy carcass signifies rifleman

Doorway symbolizes exit
voice predicts advancing military dictator
mechanical assent begins again
figure it out or don't eat

Yet this pie prophecies a shift in state
this system of definitions fails
to rescue the preening monarch
who marches triumphantly to a hidden lash

Word Photo {click here}
via Brand New Insects (Shanna Compton) {click here}

notebooK: poem
written on an envelope
postmarked
17 Sep 1986


Unpublishable

A straining after
Unleavened leaves
Eucalyptus
Brunches- unspoken
Brightness darkened
In sunken syllables
At last exposed, branched
Against possibly whispered
Rant- jammed thoughts-
Signalled breathing spelled
By listenable- gratitude