August 17, 2017
The avant-garde has come so far. Signed by M. Filreis, the invitation to the Penn Writers House AWP soiree (held at a mansion on Lake Shore Drive, Chicago) promises “hors d’oeuvres, cocktails, and literary conversation in the manner of a Salon.” Fact.
The avant-garde has come so far. Signed by M. Filreis, the invitation to the Penn Writers House AWP soiree (held at a mansion on Lake…
August 17, 2017
But why was the elderly M. Doty so high up in the flowering chestnut, moaning like a cat? Slowly, hand over hand, handsome young fireman Stern climbed the ladder, towards the enigma.
But why was the elderly M. Doty so high up in the flowering chestnut, moaning like a cat? Slowly, hand over hand, handsome young fireman Stern…
August 17, 2017
Yeah, said the bird-masked M. Share, Just suck on it you little piece of 90s poetry shit. The pendulum swung and swung: Oh, No, cried M. Hollander. Oh, No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No.
Yeah, said the bird-masked M. Share, Just suck on it you little piece of 90s poetry shit. The pendulum swung and swung: Oh, No, cried M. Hollander.…
August 17, 2017
On the 4th of July, over hallowed Fisher-Bennett Hall, at the University of Pennsylvania, in Philadelphia, a large rocket did burst high in the sky, forming the beatific, smiling face of Marjorie Perloff, as she looked ca. 1983.
On the 4th of July, over hallowed Fisher-Bennett Hall, at the University of Pennsylvania, in Philadelphia, a large rocket did burst high in the…
August 17, 2017
“Dear God, for what? Because I’ve written of our field and its discords??” cried M. Hollander, spread-eagled in the dank pit. Down, down, in the dungeon of the Poetry Foundation, the pendulum slowly swung…swang…swung…
“Dear God, for what? Because I’ve written of our field and its discords??” cried M. Hollander, spread-eagled in the dank pit. Down,…
August 17, 2017
According to Le Monde, the most wildly popular sport of the recent Winter Olympics has been the newly introduced “Skeleton.” No articles on the forgotten bones of millions of poets, just lying there, stunned, beneath the slowly falling snow.
According to Le Monde, the most wildly popular sport of the recent Winter Olympics has been the newly introduced “Skeleton.” No articles…
August 17, 2017
M. Slosek and M. Sasaki, staffers of the Poetry Foundation were pedaling a tandem bike eastward, to Besancon. M. Borzutzky and Mlle Young, couriers of the Poetry Foundation, were pedaling, similarly, though westward, toward Dijon. Relativity is a universal law. Even if cycling tragedies in poetry seem to sometimes contradict it…
M. Slosek and M. Sasaki, staffers of the Poetry Foundation were pedaling a tandem bike eastward, to Besancon. M. Borzutzky and Mlle Young,…
August 17, 2017
“Are you ready?” said M. Killian, holding the hand of Mme Bellamy. “I’m ready,” said the latter. M. Killian put the pedal to the metal, and over they went, soaring gloriously, into the ancient canyon.
“Are you ready?” said M. Killian, holding the hand of Mme Bellamy. “I’m ready,” said the latter. M. Killian put the pedal to the metal, and…
August 17, 2017
Said Amin, 24, Mansour, a poet, had his legs severed by Humvee gunner M. Allen, 24, Fargo, a poet, too. “Look at my feet there on the road!” cried M. Amin. Then he died.
Said Amin, 24, Mansour, a poet, had his legs severed by Humvee gunner M. Allen, 24, Fargo, a poet, too. “Look at my feet there on the road!”…
August 17, 2017
Let’s protest the war, poets, said M. Hamill! 15,000 did. Messrs. Bernstein, Silliman, and Watten gave speeches, protesting the poets who protested. Irony.
Let’s protest the war, poets, said M. Hamill! 15,000 did. Messrs. Bernstein, Silliman, and Watten gave speeches, protesting the poets who…
August 17, 2017
Yesterday, Mlle Khalil, 14, Karbala, who’d a fortnight ago won the Poetry Fair of her school, was promptly evaporated, with a classmate. Panels at the MLA on “Innovative Poetry in the Academy” begin tomorrow, in San Francisco.
Yesterday, Mlle Khalil, 14, Karbala, who’d a fortnight ago won the Poetry Fair of her school, was promptly evaporated, with a classmate. Panels…
August 17, 2017
The SPD Staff Holiday Selection List has come out, for the month of December. Merry Christmas, Guantánamo poets, Good Luck to You and God Bless Everyone!
The SPD Staff Holiday Selection List has come out, for the month of December. Merry Christmas, Guantánamo poets, Good Luck to You and…
August 17, 2017
In Saint-Denis, the handsome poet M. Hussein, who’d been tortured in Abu Ghraib, but survived to marry an American damsel, threw himself under a locomotive. His intestines were gathered up in a cloth.
In Saint-Denis, the handsome poet M. Hussein, who’d been tortured in Abu Ghraib, but survived to marry an American damsel, threw himself…
August 17, 2017
The panelists at the MLA spoke in solemn tones about “The Meaning of Poetry Today.” Then they retired to the cash bar, Rm. 420, Hyatt Hotel, and began to network, in earnest.
The panelists at the MLA spoke in solemn tones about “The Meaning of Poetry Today.” Then they retired to the cash bar, Rm. 420, Hyatt…
August 17, 2017
After so many stoic, elegant elegies to our collective loss and coming death, it was a surprising way to go out: M. Merwin climbed into the catapult on the Maui cliff and cut the taut rope. Over rough seas, dark machines slowly prowl the air.
After so many stoic, elegant elegies to our collective loss and coming death, it was a surprising way to go out: M. Merwin climbed into the catapult…
August 17, 2017
MFA poets Mlle Fournier, M. Vouin, M. Septeuil, of Providence, Buffalo, Irvine, hanged themselves: rejections, bad review, no review.
MFA poets Mlle Fournier, M. Vouin, M. Septeuil, of Providence, Buffalo, Irvine, hanged themselves: rejections, bad review, no review.
August 17, 2017
The thief Godin snuck in. Seeing M. Hoover and Mme Chernoff weeping in embrace, the former babbling that the Norton Anthology of Postmodern Poetry betrayed everything he’d stood for, O God, O God, what have I done, etc., the intruder turned away. Softly behind him, he closed the door.
The thief Godin snuck in. Seeing M. Hoover and Mme Chernoff weeping in embrace, the former babbling that the Norton Anthology of Postmodern…
August 17, 2017
Wearing felt party antlers, made by kids in Pakistan, one hundred and fifty-seven poets and critics hopped forward in the Potato Sack Race, marking the close of the “Poetry of the ‘70s” conference, in Orono. The winner: Mme Howe, by a hair.
Wearing felt party antlers, made by kids in Pakistan, one hundred and fifty-seven poets and critics hopped forward in the Potato Sack Race,…
August 17, 2017
Be careful what you wish for, poets! Alone in Saint-Martin-Chennetron, M. Pinsky, once the telegenic Laureate, wrings his hands and softly mutters, sensing growing contempt, coming indifference, eternal oblivion.
Be careful what you wish for, poets! Alone in Saint-Martin-Chennetron, M. Pinsky, once the telegenic Laureate, wrings his hands and softly…
August 17, 2017
A miracle! In Asnières, by accident, she claims, Mme Myles discharged a 9mm, hitting M. Davis, seven times, in the heart. Saved by the book in his pocket: Poems by Pierre Reverdy.
A miracle! In Asnières, by accident, she claims, Mme Myles discharged a 9mm, hitting M. Davis, seven times, in the heart. Saved by the book in…
August 17, 2017
To make a statement, outside the Metro, in Metz, the surrealist poet M. Joron fired many pistol shots, randomly, into a crowd. These days, poets will do anything for attention.
To make a statement, outside the Metro, in Metz, the surrealist poet M. Joron fired many pistol shots, randomly, into a crowd. These days,…
August 17, 2017
“Look at these sinful magazines,” screamed the Headmistress nun, “And the pages all stuck together like that, you filthy, sick child!” This the 14-year-old poet Walter Gerard did recount, in his notebook (beneath a quote from Verlaine), in his own blood.
“Look at these sinful magazines,” screamed the Headmistress nun, “And the pages all stuck together like that, you filthy, sick child!” This the…
August 17, 2017
Well, it seemed like a good idea… The dirigible Pegasus, of the Poetry Foundation, piloted by M. Share and M. Bienen, has been hit by a shoulder-fired missile, over Gloucester.
Well, it seemed like a good idea… The dirigible Pegasus, of the Poetry Foundation, piloted by M. Share and M. Bienen, has been hit by a…
August 17, 2017
What?! Language poets perched on his wall?! With eight rounds, M. Hirschman sent them scampering, back to the Ecole Normale.
What?! Language poets perched on his wall?! With eight rounds, M. Hirschman sent them scampering, back to the Ecole Normale.
August 17, 2017
A little flying machine the color of lapis lazuli: M. Padgett, helmeted and goggled, climbed in. “I will fly, non-stop, from Oklahoma City to Tulsa!” Search parties are scouring the barren land.
A little flying machine the color of lapis lazuli: M. Padgett, helmeted and goggled, climbed in. “I will fly, non-stop, from Oklahoma City to…
August 17, 2017
M. Spicer has died, in Poetry Magazine. All parking lots are final. The murderers, with their small prizes, sprinted through the parking lots (wet). Boulevard de Strasbourg and the damp night. Cops don’t care; it’s a system. No one knows how to fix it. Your faces are wild with the pleasure of it.
M. Spicer has died, in Poetry Magazine. All parking lots are final. The murderers, with their small prizes, sprinted through the parking lots…
August 17, 2017
“Which way to the water closet?” the chirpy Mlle Bellard had inquired, in the Literary Arts Building, at Brown, still under construction. “Through that door,” said the competitive Mlle Vuillard. Down went Mlle Bellard, four floors, to the street below.
“Which way to the water closet?” the chirpy Mlle Bellard had inquired, in the Literary Arts Building, at Brown, still under construction.…
August 17, 2017
After so many stoic, elegant elegies to our collective loss and coming death, it was a surprising way to go out: M. Merwin climbed into the catapult on the Maui cliff and cut the taut rope. Over rough seas, dark machines slowly prowl the air.
After so many stoic, elegant elegies to our collective loss and coming death, it was a surprising way to go out: M. Merwin climbed into the…
August 17, 2017
Is nothing sacred anymore!? In Poetry, to the general delight of the so-called post-avant, a portfolio of poems by Jack Spicer has appeared.
Is nothing sacred anymore!? In Poetry, to the general delight of the so-called post-avant, a portfolio of poems by Jack Spicer has…
August 17, 2017
What do we mean, post-avant poets at Buffalo, that the abstract lyric is revenant of the Romantic? Mlle Ghazzi, 8, Rafah, her skin hanging in strips, earnestly awaits an answer.
What do we mean, post-avant poets at Buffalo, that the abstract lyric is revenant of the Romantic? Mlle Ghazzi, 8, Rafah, her skin hanging in…