some recent poems -- Molly Bloom + Moss Trill

Four poems from "Glossary of Musical Terms" appeared last week in the online journal Molly Bloom, as did a new piece in Bill Allegrezza's Moss Trill. Thanks much to the editors!

Ongoing notes: the dusie kollectiv,

Here are some brief reviews of more of recent chapbooks received as part of the “dusie 5 kollectiv” [see my first two notes on such here and here].

Chicago IL: For the few years I've been aware of his work, I've been taken by some of the trade poetry collections of Chicago poet and publisher William Allegrezza, who, according to the back of his dusie offering, Marquee (2011), “has books forthcoming with Salt Publishing, The University of New Orleans Press, and Furniture Press.” Envy, those. Allegrezza's poems, here, are predominantly constructed of statements, sentences and queries that flow across a few different structures, from the halting-straight to scattered across the page. For those who don't know about his work, Allegrezza is one of the more interesting and persistent poets over the past decade in Chicago. In this collection of short poems, what, exactly, does the marquee tell?

the red notebook

if you start to believe this—

what this? the smell of stale

air, the burning eyes?—,

you should, perhaps,

if you did, begin to move

through office alleys,

the birds silent—the starlings

having shaken space away—

you should see the signs

cold with wind and

rhapsodize about leaves

turning in violent

circuitry spreading on our

young memories and

think about the same bridges,

stretches, and pine trees

you knew when young.

Brooklyn NY: Who is this Krystal Languell, author of many lost cause creatures could form a very sad list (2011)[see Allegrezza's review of same here]? According to the bio at the back of her small chapbook, she is “the founding editor of Bone Bouquet and a member of the Belladonna* Collaborative.” How can I still be amazed that there are so many interesting poets I haven’t previously heard about? It even says she is “poetry editor for Noemi Press,” another discovery.

His non-anatomical heart? Oh I don’t give a shit.

Wants to get through it unscathed. Friend of poetry. Ten-plus.

A straight white man can’t get a dollar out of me—you say

you don’t like pain? The trouble with your defense

is I’m working class, too. Get in line and take a number.

Many of the sentences that make up her many lost cause creatures could form a very sad list collide, crash headlong into each other, creating the most jarring and magnificent breaks. Languell’s short sequence of compact stanzas collage and even confuse their way into impact, discovering and creating meanings through the combinations.

A slow talker says, “Where are the bodegas? In Brooklyn

you can go to a bodega and get a Snapple.” Indisputable

& at the flea market you can buy milkman receipts from 1907

& personal correspondence. The din in my museum

overpowers what’s outside the window—it’s old noise, vintage.

I’m curious as to where she might have picked up or picked out some of these phrases; is this a collage of her own words with others slipped in? It’s as though Languell has picked from the language and the fragments of stories surrounding her immediate world, writing a poem out of the simple collapsing of her entire world into short, sharp sentences. Is this a collection of stories, a poem, or a very sad list? I think it’s all of that, and perhaps, none of the above, at once. Either way, I wonder, is this part of something larger she is collecting?

when you call on the poor to make donations

when you feel like a shelter dog

when I hear the word culture I reach for my checkbook

when I get my period on the way

to ship a dead woman’s things home

Lafayette CO/LO: Part of the entertainment of receiving so many chapbooks from writers around the world has not only been for the variety of writing, but the variety of production and format. From poets j/j hastain and Marthe Reed come the collaborative post-cards :: Lafayette á Lafayette (Nous-zōt Press, 2011), a collection of pieces by two poets responding to each other. As Reed writes in her “Post-face” at the end of her section:

Out of the blue, the best of blue skies, last February, I received an email from j/j hastain responding to my first little book, tender box, a wunderkammer. A kind of grace, and the opening of dear friendship. The discovery that we both live in Lafayette – one in Colorado and one in Louisiana – became a structure – an imperative? – for writing poem-cards to one another, inspired also by j/j’s unbound chapbook of poem-cards for Dusie 4. envisioning our collaboration as an extension of the Dusie community, each month we sent one another a hand-made card, occasions for dialog – a process of learning one another’s voice(s), impulses, languages. j/j’s work speaks to me of the body and embodiment, of the passage between correspondence, a friendship formed along the pulses of poetry and communion.

These are poems that respond to and play off of each other, each poet reflecting back what it is that they see, and perhaps adding to it.

all none every

absolutely disposable

when s/he hits the page it will

burn away

the body exceeds its content (Marthe Reed)

There is something wonderful about the play between the two of these, barely opened up, it might appear, through nearly a dozen poems each. hastain’s initial responses to Reed react far more abstractly, taking her references and pulling them apart, writing a clarity of purpose:

humans are congealed desire in

desperate pursuit of form

And I am hoping, might this be some kind of ongoing collaboration, akin to, perhaps, the ongoing collaboration between Canadian poet Douglas Barbour and American poet Sheila E. Murphy, the first part of such appearing as Continuations (Edmonton AB: University of Alberta Press, 2006)? If Barbour and Murphy are any example, it is possible to bridge long distances through the poem. As hastain’s own “Post-face” reads:

From inhabiting the lonely site of an only internal sky—from what was such immense effort to thread the days, then—came this presence. And from it: how make speak in world compel such speechless? I knew by the warmth of Marthe’s responses to my gestures toward her and her work, that there could be fluency—but how to record the progresses collaboratively? What tongue of connectivity? How would I mark the sweet undulations of what (for me) had once been either a private or public (performance-based) body of grief? I am saying how make shared by two? I am saying how make collaboratively heal-ful bridge? I think that I have been part of a miracle here with Marthe. A progressive, porous progression. A possibility made more possible through extension wherein the refracted views I share, are received and reflected back. This process increasing lubrications between gesture in planarity and the heart-felt, galactic compulsions of memoir/memory.

12 or 20 (small press) questions: William Allegrezza on Moira

1 – When did Moria the online journal, and then the trade books, first start? How have your original goals as a publisher shifted since you started, if at all? And what have you learned through the process?

Moria first started when I was living in Baton Rouge in 1998.   I could not get easy access to the materials that I most wanted to read, and I was a poor graduate student, so I could not pay for them.  Thinking about my own case, I decided to start a journal focusing on innovative that could be read anywhere.  The trade/ebooks started in 2005.  I just thought it would be a good way to offer books without the complicated process of a full printing.

2 – What first brought you to publishing?

I came to it in the beginning to read innovative work.  Publishing brought me to the work, and after that, publishing brought me into the broader world of contemporary poetry.

3 – What do you consider the role and responsibilities, if any, of small publishing?

Small presses need to exist to publish work that the large corporate presses are not willing to take on.  In essence, small presses needs to be there for innovation.

4 – What do you see your press doing that no one else is?


I could answer that question when the presses started, but I’m not sure that Moria does anything that is completely distinct.  It publishes a decent amount of Vispo and post-language work, but that could be found also in other journals. 

5 – What do you see as the most effective way to get new publications out into the world?


The e-zine is a quick way to spread work around the world, but really, I think getting work published has become much easier than it used to be, and the big part today seems to be drawing attention to a publication, not just publishing it.

6 – How involved an editor are you? Do you dig deep into line edits, or do you prefer more of a light touch?

The light touch—I do not edit the pieces much at all on Moria.  I do that more in my critical editing positions.

7 – How do your books get distributed? What are your usual print runs?

Through the website.  Since Moria focuses on free ebooks with the possibility of printing, I don’t try to distribute the books.  The ebooks get quite a bit of traffic, so I’m not too worried about attracting new attention. 

8 – How many other people are involved with editing or production? Do you work with other editors, and if so, how effective do you find it? What are the benefits, drawbacks?

I work alone with Moria.  In other projects I work with others, but I like to keep Moria as my own project.  If I like a piece, I put it online, and I don’t have to argue with someone else about it.

9 – How has being an editor/publisher changed the way you think about your own writing?

I think it influences all aspects of my writing.  I think about writing for online and the page different.  I think of paper sizes when writing for print.  I think of method of distribution.  I think I focused just on writing before I became involved in publishing. 

10 – How do you approach the idea of publishing your own writing? Some, such as Gary Geddes when he still ran Cormorant, refused such, yet various Coach House Press’ editors had titles during their tenures as editors for the press, including Victor Coleman and bpNichol. What do you think of the arguments for or against, or do you see the whole question as irrelevant?

I will publish my own writing if I think it fits in the project, but I have stopped publishing my work through Moria.  I like to see my work in a variety of places, so I don’t want to tie it up myself. 

11 – How do you see the press evolving? How do you see the journal evolving?


I’d like to add more advanced media pieces, like movies, mixed media—basically I’d like to see more works that use the properties of the Internet in the work.

12 – What, as a publisher, are you most proud of accomplishing? What do you think people have overlooked about your publications? What is your biggest frustration?


Moria has published many poets in its ten plus years.  I’m happy about publishing poets without worrying about who they are.  I try to focus on the work, so that sometimes has me saying yes to a first time writer

13 – Who were your early publishing models when starting out?


I don’t think I had anything specific in mind.  Publishing on the Internet was a new thing when I started. 

14 – How does Moria engage with your immediate literary community, and community at large? What journals or presses do you see your books in dialogue with? How important do you see those dialogues, those conversations?

Moria does not engage much with my local community; however, it has a large readership.  People visit the site from roughly 44 countries a month.  I think the international readership is important for the journal.  I dialogue about publishing issue with many other editors, and I think that help me stay aware of what is working and not working in the publishing field.  That gets reflected in Moria.  Ultimately, through talking with other publishers, I began to see the need for the ebooks/POD books, so I started that part of Moria.  

15 – Do you hold regular or occasional readings or launches? How important do you see public readings and other events?


Moria does not host readings or launches.  If there were more people helping me, I would.  Most of the advertizing for the ebooks/PODs happens through e-mail, Facebook, and other such sites.

16 – How do you utilize the internet, if at all, to further your goals?

Well, as an e-zine, the Internet is crucial, but really I think have an e-zine is good because it makes the work more widely available than a print magazine.  

17 – Do you take submissions? If so, what aren’t you looking for?

 Yes, I do.  I posted something about this topic on my blog a few years ago, and I think it is still works.  I’ll just paste that here:

*read the journal before submitting. most of the poems i reject are in styles not published in the journal.

*don't forward submissions that have obviously been rejected many, many times. go ahead and remove the "forwarding" marks from your e-mail.

* don't rant about how good you are in the cover letter. (related: don't tell me about the five million places you have published your work.)

* don't be degrading to women.

* don't send extremely religious work.

* don't tell me about all the wonderful poets you know in poetryland. unless i know one of the poets as a friend, it doesn't make me take a second look at your work.

* don't ask for advice. i get too many submissions to do that. join a writing group for advice.

* don't write me two weeks after you submit looking for an answer.

* don't center all of you poems.

* tell me about work that you like in the journal.

here are some suggestions for what to do after you are rejected.

* don't write me to complain. that doesn't make me change my mind. plus, if i am on the edge about your work, that just makes me not want to look at future work from you.

* get over it. who the hell am i? who is any editor really? if your work is good, keep trying to get it out there.

* go read some contemporary poetry. if you, a poet, don't read contemporary poetry, who does?

* write and publish a poem on how much you hate me. (make sure to send it to me.)

to be forthcoming, i'll give you some of my poetry prejudices for moria.

* i like innovative/experimental/playful poetry for moria. that's what it's supposed to be about.

* i don't publish extremely religious poetry or poems about breasts (in praise, lust, whatever).

* i think poetry should uphold life, not denigrate it.

* i don't publish poetry written by poets named harold unless they remind me of haroldo de campos.

18 – Tell me about three of your most recent titles, and why they’re special.

Ed Baker’s Goodnight is a fascinating book that plays with words on the page and images.   Mark Young’s More from Series Magritte expands on his first book from Series Magritte, and really, I just think that Mark is an incredible writer.  Last, I always like the new issues of the e-zine, and I just posted one with many interesting writers. 

12 or 20 (small press) questions;

The City Visible: Chicago Poetry for the New Century

Hotel

We know. The rooms seem empty.
Our names are in the most lost registers.
We were given a system to cut the life from our mouth.
Or no system. Either way a scream.

All the sheets here are white,
with behind-the-back faces.
You can do a thing with a faucet,
a concussion. This nation knows to bruise.

Death is a very close door in the hall—
see how our foot slips in?
(The sweet taste of shit.)
See how everything, history, is a chute?
See how our tongue, this close door,
is also that black, that sweet?

Fuck us in springtime.
Let the air roll over the mass grave like petals.
It also smells sweet. It is our hair.
It is chalk, bags of rice, nails.

There is a star here called America.
We follow her everywhere.
She is a ball of gas,
a fired-off round, a stove, a blackout.
She keeps us in her kitchen.

We could be anyone.
Under the bed, we are anyone.
Any genocide we've mentioned. (Arielle Greenberg)

If anybody has been wondering why there hasn’t been any updating of Chicago Postmodern Poetry lately (an interview with me has apparently been forthcoming for some time, for example), wonder no more, with the appearance of The City Visible: Chicago Poetry for the New Century (Chicago IL: Cracked Slab Books, 2007), edited by William Allegrezza and Raymond Bianchi, two very active editor/publisher/poets in the Chicago area. I've always been a fan of geographic anthologies of writing, to get a sense of what (according to the particular biases of the editor/s, of course) is happening within the particular area (see even a Chicago blog here). Working to produce a Chicago anthology of postmodern poetry "for the new century," the book includes a cross-section of works by Srikanth Reddy, Jennifer Scappettone, Suzanne Buffam [see my recent note on her here], John Tipton, Eric Elshtain, David Pavelich, Peter O'Leary, William Fuller, Michael O'Leary, Mark Tardi, Erica Bernheim, Michael Antonucci, Chris Glomski, Garin Cycholl, Luis Urrea, Kristy Odelius, Simone Muench, Lea Graham (see her here with Parliament Hill in the background), Ed Robertson, Arielle Greenberg, Robyn Schiff, Nick Twemlow, Tony Trigilio, Shin Yu Pai, Dan Beachy-Quick, Maxine Chernoff, Kerri Sonnenberg, Jesse Seldess, Paul Hoover, Michelle Taransky, Robert Archambeau, Bill Marsh, Larry Sawyer, Lina ramona Vitkauskas, Cecilia Pinto, Johanny Paz, Ela Kotkowska, Jorge Sanchez, Joel Craig, Daniel Borzutsky, Joel Felix, Raymond Bianchi, Cynthia Bond, William Allegrezza, Jennifer Karmin, Tim Yu, Laura Sims, Roberto Harrison, Brenda Cárdenas, Stacy Szymaszek, Chuck Stebelton and Jordan Stempleman. As Bianchi writes in his "Introduction,"

The dialogue is between these poets who more or less care about the same things and whose work has influenced each others' like a series of Venn diagrams touching all and influencing some. There are many more poets and movements in Chicago which did not make this volume. There is a complete lack of Slam Poets and regional writers; these groups are strong in Chicago, and they have a press infrastructure that supports their work. In this volume you have a variety of poets writing on the edge—experimental, multi-lingual, internationally infused writing at the heart of the United States.

When I first heard of this anthology, I wondered if they might even have included work by Canadian expat (they already have at least one other Canadian in there, with expat Buffam) Nathalie Stephens, living and teaching in Chicago these past couple of years (with a book out with Nightboat this fall), but for whatever reason she's not included.

Part of what adds to the collection is that, even though some sections might be smaller than others, each poet works to provide a small "poetic statement" of some sort (although two of the contributors have statements only a short line long, but for Mark Tardi, certainly say enough) to go along with their writing. Poet Maxine Chernoff's "Poetic Statement: Form and Function" reads like a small essay, much longer than the rest. Arielle Greenberg (a poet I've heard about for some time, but not yet read until this collection) writes this as hers:

In my first book, I was seeking to allow myself permission to be playful, messy, funny—to risk failure, as a true experiment should. My second book was an attempt to address issues I felt I'd been avoiding and needed to face—issues of selfhood, of anger, of cultural and historical legacy—without making poems that were didactic, overtly representational, or humorless.

After the birth of my daughter, my poems became more direct and urgent, I think: I had less time and energy for games in my work than I once did. Now this, too, is slowly starting to change. My poetic project is the project of the life I'm living, which is to say I have little control over where it might need to go next.

I might not be into what everyone here is doing, but I very much like the range, moving from more formal applications to the easily more informal; but if Nathalie Stephens isn’t here, I'm intrigued to know just how many other poets there are in Chicago that I might not be yet aware of?

The Rushing

Forsythia at roadside
arcing up,

a reach for
what? Passing on foot or in

reluscent car—past already—
so brilliant

a wanting
and yet. Yearning already

for the next before bloom: Love,
perhaps, or

not love—but
its desire, things as Michael

might say, Turning…on and off
and on stems'

phloem, lenticels, xylem,
this old wood

flowering (Lea Graham)