Field Recordings

A link to Larry Levis reading Caravaggio: Swirl and Vortex

Happy national Poetry Month!

Much has been said of the union protests that have spread from Wisconsin to Ohio and to Providence, RI. States and counties are under the gun to cut programs, which means that educators and the arts are some of the first programs to see the gleaming knife slice through the sodium light of the state house. Typically Democratic presidents are good for the arts, and for education, but because the recession is limping into the black both areas are targeted for deep cuts. Consider Detroit, who will close half of its schools, and force 60 kids into a classroom. Now I don't know about you, but 60 is a helluva lot to teach at one time. I'd have to refigure how I taught essays to even meet the needs of 60 kids per class. As for other activities? It'd have to be worksheets and scan-trons....ugh...which I loathe as a intellectual pursuit. I find them best used as classroom management tools, not as assessments of student thinking and progress. San Diego is cutting public art grants. So...

I wish to say I was more versed (pun intended) in the vast underbelly of independent poetry happening throughout the western world, but the fact is the sheer weight of those serving the poetic muse is deep as it is broad. And I have to small boys, and they take precedence over poetry. However, over the last week I have the pleasure of reading Glenn Sheldon (allegory smashed up with surrealistic language), Nick Martlatt (trippy long lines and short zen koans with a dark edge), among others, and what I find I generally enjoy. I admit I don't get some of it. Sheldon's Biogrpahy o the Boy who prayed to the god of foreheads perplexed me for most of the read, while Martlatt's How We Fall Apart lulled me times until he picked up the axe again. I'm not really sure what my point is here, only to say I am encouraged by the depth of those who follow the poetic. And poetry seems to me, a great medium for the internet age, where we take our reads and news in short form, rather than...

One of my WWII poems, from the ever-evolving Sleepr Agnt manuscript is up at Anderbo , one of the best web magazines in the country.

Thrift Store X-mas Deux For the second year in a row Michele and I are celebrating Thrift Store X-mas. Which means the following: we spend $50 +/- bucks on each other via a secondary/used/on-line used store, etc. A freeing experience. There's no expectations. Pressure? Sure. Especially if you devote any cranial mass to picking out gifts, but it's fun, addictive, and just common sense. Last year I got a pickling jar, a wooden log carrier, books, tapes (for my truck, whose sound system is so 1993), small gifts my wife selected because we shared a joke about them once, or because it was, well, unexpected. Like a English hound iron door stop, painted with realistic, yet semi ironic colors. For the kids, well it's a mixed bag....The dollars we save goes towards their gifts. And we're not super present givers anyway. One big gift from us, wrapped-- a happiness bomb under the tree, the others laid out by Santa. We set a precedent for Santa to not leave so much. This year a few...

If anyone's interested in a mid-summer run to Rehoboth's outlet malls, consider Tuesday, July 27th, and stop by the Rehoboth Beach Librar y for the summer poetry series. Besides moi, Denise Clemmons, poet and food critic for the Cape Gazette, and Sherry Chapplle, poet and professor. Excellent company. Books will be for sale afterwards. It's a quality series, and full of surprises. Garry Hanna has done a bang-up job organizing the summer series. Bring a few quarters to ward off the meter maid. Reading starts at 7:00 PM.