Sunday, October 31, 2010

Where I Mashup My Favorite Twitter Poets

Inspired by @Soulclaphands' sparky mash poetry sitemy current affair with luminous David Shields ("you are seeking to arrive at poetic truth, which can be reached only through fabrication..."), a naggy blocked writing morning, and, of course, some of my very favorite twitter poets, I "assembled" a poem. That is, I mashedup.  

It was liberating to romp with stolen words... to pluck them, lean them against each other, shift, tweak & shift again. Is it an adulteration of the originals?  To be sure.  Is it something new, too? Well, yes.

Knowing the originals adds all kinds of crazy drift (I've included links when available), which I love.  Like song covers, the new is richer when the source is burned into you too.  I also just stepped up and titled the thing.  It felt a tad proprietary at first, but now I can rightly say it's our poem.


"Body" doesn’t do
your body justice. Patient
in my fumbling hands.

                                             My kiss
on his cheek the only thing I knew would help him

his hands, my hands,
silk scarves from God's perfumed drawer,

                  where your skin
is a window open on a night
of many weathers

O night, O sea - you are twittery and long.

                                   There is too much
in this world already. In a pile

Mistake yourself for shadows. 
Learn the lullabies of lint.

1st stanza - Gabrielle Calvocoressi Elegy Scale 
2nd stanza - Alex Dimitrov Dish Washer 
3rd stanza - Trish Harris First Baptist
4th stanza - Sarah Sarai Let Me Ask You This 
5th stanza - Kimberly Grey The Difference Between "Oh" and "O"
6th stanza - Stephanie Kartalopoulos Inside a Dark Room
7th stanza - Saeed Jones Sleeping Arrangement

Friday, October 29, 2010

Me. Narrative Magazine. Oh yes.

In case you haven't heard? My essay in Narrative Magazine:  Woo-hoo!

While I’d love to rave about a French Laundry binge or a fat wedge of Ms. Child’s Pâté de Canard en Croûte, something so far out of the ordinary that it stunned me and presented me my calling on a platter, it wouldn’t be true. Exacting perfection has never swayed me much...