I will use
whiskey only
for gargling.
I will argue
that dogs are
U.S. citizens, too.
I will compare work
to a strip search.
I will stare at you
as if you were
someone else.
I will call it war
rather than
armed conflict,
and in my head,
I will see myself
spiraling down
in orange flames.
I will admire
the dainty feet
of a hugely
fat woman.
I will place birds
like commas
around the yard.
_______________________
Howie Good, a journalism professor at the State University of New York at New Paltz, is the author of 12 poetry chapbooks, including most recently My Heart Draws a Rough Map from The Blue Hour Press and Ghosts of Breath from Bedouin Books. He has been nominated four times for a Pushcart Prize and five times for the Best of the Net anthology. His first full-length book of poetry, Lovesick, was released in 2009 by Press Americana. He is co-editor of the online literary journal Left Hand Waving.
Tagged as:
New Literature Online,
Poetry
We know from the Greeks that the poet is a maker of things. Looking at the root of the word poet, we find poiesis, which means making. In fact, Edward Hirsch tells us, “Open the Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics to the entry for “Poesie” and you discover that in the Renaissance the word makers, as in courtly makers was an exact equivalent for poets. The word poem became English in the sixteenth century and it has been with us ever since to designate a form of fabrication, a type of composition, a made thing.” When we think about the poem being a made thing, we think about Jennifer Borges Foster. Not only does she create her own words in her own poems, she also makes her own literary journal, Filter. We asked her about her work, and below she explains the made-ness of her linguistic artifacts. After reading our interview, you just might think less about the Kindle and more about the human communication invested in poetry and book making. To learn more about Jennifer’s bookmaking, visit Ticker Finch. — Lori Huskey
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Tagged as:
Literature in the Media
A Forthright Fragrance
by Charlie Geer
Some people like subtlety in their incense — a light touch, just a trace of the chosen bouquet wafting about delicately, threading the air. Other people prefer a more candid incense, one that is not ashamed to come right out and take charge of the room: a frank incense. If you’re headed to a grubby stable with a newborn in it, you’ll definitely want the frank incense. Bold gold, frank incense, assured myrrh…felíz navidad, friends.
Continue Reading Noted Abroad.
Tagged as:
Charlie Geer,
New Literature Online,
Spain
Adorable!
We don’t buy Christmas gifts for our dogs, but we don’t begrudge those who do. Sometimes we dress our dogs in sweaters, but we know they’re not humans. Not buying them presents is our version of drawing the line.
Some of our friends think it’s odd that we’re readers. They think reading is as screwy as hanging a stocking for your Labrador. We’re getting those friends comic books for Christmas. We’re getting them comic books and we’re rolling our eyes.
Winter is getting to us. We miss sitting on front porches. We love the season, but we miss the taste of lemonade. Maybe we’re Grinches. Maybe Santa won’t come see us. Maybe we don’t believe in him anyways.
What do we believe in? The written word. And here we’ve gathered some reading to help you through the season. At the very least it’s a great escape from the in-laws. — Brian Allen Carr
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Tagged as:
Literature in the Media,
Wednesday's Writerly Happenings
