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Showing posts from December, 2004

my Grandad

me and reggie (my biological father)

back in America

strange being back in America. Got back late last night. My body says it's 1:38AM and I want to sleep, but must push through the jet lag.

Great time in Dublin, London, and Belfast. Met my biological father (Reggie). Haven't seen him in 24 years. It was a good meeting. He had the same glasses, beard, and recently had his little toe removed. The exact same little toe that keeps bothering me. I'd like to keep my little toe, so I get it checked out.

We met at a drinking club called Buffs. Cheap drinks, well-dressed men, and a lodge downstairs. An experience. Six pints and a double whiskey in the middle of the afternoon.

I'm not going to drink any alcohol for a while now (at least till Saturday). Went to the pub on Christmas eve in a little village in England. It was packed. Everyone drinks their way through Christmas and the new year.

here we go . . .here we go . . .here we go... here we go o

leaving in 1 hour to fly to Boston then on to Dublin. 5 hour layover in the Boston airport however. Printed out Silliman's Demo and Rod Smith's Protective Immediacy to read. Also some Art in America mags and a lots of cds. Just picked up GBV's MAG EARWHIG. Hope it's good. Also finally got The White Stripes first album (before they went all wonky cool).

Hope there's some good grub in Logan airport.

Hopefully I can use someone's computer when I am Ireland or England and do a quick post. Maybe a pic. If not, I am sure I'll have lots to report upon my return.

Cheers and Merry Holidays!!!!!

quick thought: can I say merry christmas and still be a sensitive fella? Or did Bush and the right wing ruin anything with the word christ attached to it?

I am not a Christian but I dig Christ and Marx and Charles Bernstein.










matmos the civil war

never listened to Matmos before. really working me good this morning. sounds of old elizabeth with some serious drums and creative electronica (an eerie base giving me the chills)

These fellas are the cream all right:

Matmos is M.C. Schmidt and Drew Daniel, aided and abetted by many others. In their recordings and live performances over the last nine years, Matmos have used the sounds of: amplified crayfish nerve tissue, the pages of bibles turning, a bowed five string banjo, slowed down whistles and kisses, water hitting copper plates, the runout groove of a vinyl record, a $5.00 electric guitar, liposuction surgery, cameras and VCRs, chin implant surgery, contact microphones on human hair, violins, rat cages, tanks of helium, violas, human skulls, cellos, peck horns, tubas, cards shuffling, field recordings of conversations in hot tubs, frequency response tests for defective hearing aids, a steel guitar recorded in a sewer, electrical interference generated by laser eye surgery, who…

a crick in my neck

Just returned from my pilgrimage to The Bookshop in Chapel Hill. Turned in Paul Hoover's _Postmodern American Poetry_, some Derrida and Frederic Jameson. Used my in store credit and spent $29 from turning in college textbooks

and got:

1) paradise and method by Bruce Andrews
2) Aerial 9 (Bruce Andrews)
3) Rondeaux by Laura Moriarty
4) Potential Random by Keith Waldrop
5) Silence and License by William L. Fox
6) Nemesis by Lew Daly
7) Revenants by Mark Nowak
8) Giving Up The Ghost by Aaron Shurin
9) From The Other Side of the Century (edited by Douglas Messerli) The selections and format looked more interesting than the Norton anthology of Postmodern American Poetry I turned in

I was very tempted to pick up Zukofsky's "A" for $15, but I still haven't made my way through Maximus and it looked a bit overwhelming.

Still reading and enjoying Livelihood by Maurice Scully.

Now I have to deal with my neck after looking at every single book of poetry one by one at The Boo…

countdown

One week from today

gonna take an airplane . . . I'm a going (to my second) home.

From Greensboro to Boston to Dublin for a few days. Tour the Guinness factory. Walk around St. Stephen's Green and think of Joyce. Then a train to Portadown to see my family. Maybe look up my biological Dad in Lurgan (not expecting much haven't seen him since I was six). A day at Portrush (a beach). Maybe some burial mounds.

Then an airplane to England (Stony Stratford) to visit more relatives and maybe check out some bookstores at Cambridge, take in a Liverpool football match, lots of pubs and steak and kidney pies.

Here's a website with some good modern day pics of my hometown:
Portadown

first 3 pages of my Campanology long poem

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

the bell is known
in all cultures – but not known
when invented

mission bells
sing from strange halls

during the recession of 1890 mission halls overflowed
with harmonic convergence

bargain bells buy now
easy cheap & quick
bells at rock bottom

big bells
now one click
away

the woman would use her only coins to ring the chapel bells
in the community the bells made many friends
the sleigh the jingle the call of worship the sink of the warship

the woman used coins
to cover the eyes
of those who died

the bells of St. Vitas and the bells of ain’t thinking
the bells of bare bulbs and the bells of spare ribs

bells announce bells pronounce bells on coat (coaxed)
bells in buttocks (spoon in the mouth)
bells calculate divide delay
bells for sickness slithering …

juggling routine

I used to feel compelled to start and finish one book before starting another. Now I feel compelled to juggle many books (and ideas and languages) at once.

Still, there is the residual guilt.

Finish what you start.

Finish every last morsel on your plate.
You can't leave the table till you finish.
Even if it gets cold.

Fuck that.

I want it hot! hot! hot!

So I juggle.

I am learning to live with my juggling.

For the last three weeks this is my juggling routine:

I read 3 poems from Ronald Johnson's Ark, 3 poems from William Bronk's Selected, 3 poems from Rosmarie Waldrop's Blindsight, 3 poems from Maurice Scully's Livelihood.

In between the readings (or during, time can be frozen) I jot down words in my small notebook.

Then I reconstruct them and add them into my long poem Campanology.

Every 3 days (or so) I re-read and re-order Campanology (try to find connective tissue).

mainly it's:

Read/Juggle
Re-arrange

read/juggle
re-arrange

read/juggle
re-arrange


Any …

Listen

Head over to Aaron McCollough's blog and listen to his songs. I love Via Positivia and Fire's on the Phone. I also like Big Star Cover. Song for Puckheads is my favourite so far. Two great voices.

ALL THE SONGS ARE GREAT. Fab lyrics.

After waking up with a little angst (a hole in my stomach) it's nice to listen to some great music. Reminds me somewhat of Neutral Milk Hotel.



HEAD OVER THERE:

LISTEN, BE HAPPY

Backwards City Review

There's a hot spanking new mag out of Greensboro called Backwards City Review. Comics, poetry, fiction, non-fiction.

The first issue should be available soon.

I've had a sneak peak (in pdf form). It's very very good!

Check out the table of contents for the first issue:

EDITOR'S NOTE

COMICS
Tom Chalkley   Heat Wave Verso
Peter S. Conrad   What's in a Name
Jim Rugg   The Stoned Ape Theory

FICTION
Michael Parker   Results for Novice Males
Alix Ohlin   Local News
Cory Doctorow   Excerpt from Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town
Adam Berlin   Speeding Away

NONFICTION

Stephen Kuusisto   Alfred Whitehead Is Alive and Well in Corpus Christi, Texas

POETRY

Joyelle McSweeney   Architectural Digest,  The Great White Fleet
Ander Monson   Me v. January, Circumstantial
Karri Harrison Paul   Eviction
Greg Williamson   Sex  22   Sex  23
Marcus Slease   If You've Got Something to Say, Then Say It
Paul Guest   Poem in Which I Seek Consolation in the Etymology of a Word, Vic…