two more for the list
I forgot to add two poetry books I've been reading today since they are out of sight at the moment and in my backpack.
Meme Me Up, Scotty! by Chris Murray
Parts Unknown: Wrestling, Gimmicks and Other Works by Michael Holmes
a bard's eye view of love, life and psychotronic cinema
two more for the list
I like Crag's summer reading list immensely. I enjoy knowing what other writers are reading period. it is very useful and often opens doors to writers previously uknown to me. I take my reading very seriously, I get a tremendous high from it, and I read something everyday.
the vacation week
I got the ol' end-of-summer blues. have the week off from work and doing a lot of nothing. however, today I actually got out of bed and did a little something close to nothing. so the day ain't a total loss, I guess. one must train the self in the arts of BEING, ya know. takes much practice to become an adept. ain't there yet of course, but it is an effort to just type this post.
it has been a long, lovely weekend. Anna and I went to the opening day of the California State Fair on Friday. we probably wouldn't go if we didn't live in Sac, however we've made it a kind of tradition to go at least once every summer in our 12 years together. and today we saw the film Open Water. the movie is receiving love it or hate it types of reviews, but for me it is one white-knuckle descent into terror. it is a beautifully bleak movie but it ain't for everyone, I guess. I must emphasize the word "terror" since that particular emotion is keener, more refined, than "horror." it's not a typical horror film, no gore, no special effects, no fancy lighting, or heroic stunts. it is two married people in terrror, living through a very real, but very fragile reality.
there have been poetry books on jazz and classical music but none that I know thus far on indie music(s). which is kinda sad really considering writers like Joshua Clover wear their music tastes on their forearms like tattoos. James Meetze writes that he and his group of brutes attempted to get a happening going at Mills last year, but was hampered by no moolah. fuck it, do it anyway at a local club.
Day in the Life of Poetry (a Sketch)
Tastes like Chicken
thank you Nick, I've got a crush on you, too, big boy.
Steve Tills at Black Spring on god, war and evil.
man, it is hard to breathe laughing so hard watching the old porn flick Debbie Does Dallas on Trio tonight where they cut all the sex and nudity and leave only the movie. cut out the sex and you have the funniest half hour on TV.
In Praise of the Good Stuff
I've been a fan of Bay Area poet Rusty Morrison for some time now. I literally scour journal, online and print, for her poems and her reviews. tonight I was gonna ask if anyone knew if Morrison has published a collection of her work, then I read this just now, and yeehaw! can't wait for Nov. if you don't know Morrison's work than hightail yourself to fetch a copy of Poetry Flash where you can often find her reviews. for her poems you must look everywhere, such as here, and scroll down a bit to find her texts.
seriously serious good commodities for the social here.
I've been reading Skip Fox for about a year now ever since I found some of his poems at Muse Apprentice Guild and was completely wowed by them. first it was his name, Skip Fox, that attracted me. can't explain it really, but we all are, I think, attracted to certain names. at any rate, his texts are blustery, in-yo-face-type of abstract writing that kept me reading and wanting more of Fox.