Yesterday Full of Crow published four of my poems in its huge Spring/Summer double issue: “Imaginary Mind,” “The People Next Door,” “Lure of the 70s,” and “The Day of Dreams and Awakenings.” You can read them here.
A couple new publications went live today.
My text poem “Last Nickle Phone Call” appeared in the literary blog Your One Phone Call. This one features a recurring character in my poetry–Ouija, basically a living “mystifying oracle.” You can read it here.
Four visual poems appeared in the weblog The New Post-literate, which “explores asemic writing in relation to post-literate culture.” Asemic writing includes any kind of marks that seem like they might be writing, or suggest some intent to convey meaning. You can view the images here. All four pieces are stills taken from my video poem “Earth Remains Flat,” which can be seen on my Bionic Eyes YouTube channel here.
This morning my poem “Some New Wizard at the Wheel” went live in Streetcake magazine, Issue 53. You can read it here.
The poem is one of a series inspired by lost civilizations around the world. Under the current American regime, it seems important to examine the fragility of languages, cultures and nations.
That time my poem “The Real Revolution” appeared in Flipside #85, from July/Aug 1993. When their poetry editor Pooch accepted it, he said he liked it because he wasn’t into Bikini Kill.
I’ve always thought they were a great band, and their concert in a park near the Capitol in DC was one of the best I’ve ever seen. Kathleen Hanna was looking pretty good in a tight t-shirt and a black miniskirt, but as a married man and a feminist, I wasn’t there to watch cute girls, just to see a great band play great music. There’s no denying that sexuality was part of their presentation. But what if (male) audiences rejected sexual posturing and just viewed people as people, regardless of gender?
Today, my poem “What You’ll Never Be” appeared in poetry blog In Between Hangovers. You can read it here.
Today, my poem “Walked Over” appeared in Stepaway Magazine #24. You can read it here. This poem was written a while ago, but I still walk to the garage (a different one) to pick up my car after repairs. My 2000 Toyota Corolla is in the shop now, again. I seem to be replacing it piece by piece.
A fascinating journal focusing on writing about walking through urban environment, Stepaway Magazine features poems and stories by, for and about the modern day flaneur or deriviste. Those are fancy French terms for people who roam without purpose through a city. I’ve done my share of that, especially while putting up stickers in various cities. One day, maybe I’ll start writing about those experiences.
That time DC-based poetry journal Open 24 Hours published two of my poems: “All that Liberty, All that Independence” and “The History of Western Art.” These appeared in issue #11 back in 1994.
Today, Empty Mirror published five poems in my “Civilization’s Lost” series: “From Palace to Palace,” “A Better Cannibal,” “Chain of Command,” “Mound Culture,” and “To every fox, a henhouse of his own.” You can read them here.
The series as a whole is based around various lost civilizations or lost cities. “From Palace to Palace,” for instance, takes the Minoan civilization as its starting point, with images of the horns of consecration, bull leapers and a large system of palaces blending with thoughts about its still undeciphered written language, known as “Linear A.” Under the current U.S. regime, I feel it’s important to examine the fragility of languages, cultures and nations.
Empty Mirror is one of my favorite online lit mags. Many pieces revolve around Beat literature, but there’s lots of contemporary visual poetry, art, and writing. Highly recommended for a slow Friday at work!
That time my poem “Cheated” appeared in Flipside #83, from March/April 1993. I’m not sure that’s how I originally had the spacing though.
Even cooler: John Brannon of Laughing Hyenas was on the cover, and there was a flexidisc single by Shonen Knife included in the magazine. I never played my copy of the record.