Never a More Generous Man

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Never a more generous man have I met than poet and friend, Matthew Rotando. I take great pleasure in singing the praises of his first book of poems, THE COMEBACK’S EXOSKELETON. I wish you could all know him too, as you will find that once you fall in love with this collection, you will long to meet the person who has such zest for life as well as an eye not afraid to behold our evils. It’s really a lovely collection — and I’m not just saying that because I’ve been waiting for years for it to appear. You should throw caution to the wind and take up this EXOSKELETON! Discover how well dresses up your own worldview!

What others are saying:

Incorporating the density of Spanish surrealism and a sprawling Whitmanesque line, this amazing first book finds Rotando engaged in a poetic biathlon which draws equally from maximal and minimal traditions. There are tight, economical poems, free verse forms derived from the sonnet, poems leaping about the page, but my favorites are the wonderful prose poems tumbling over and under themselves toward gnomish statements that feel both didactic and self-parodying. –Tim Peterson, from the Foreword

The rich, exultant writing in Matthew Rotando’s first collection is both comic and cosmic. Lyrics steeped in the Latin American literary tradition disclose what might be called the surreality of reality in contemporary American culture, while cadences of Stein and Barthelme make the prose poems in The Comeback’s Exoskeleton ring with laughter of great philosophical depth. This is a writer unafraid to love and to err, and to do so with irrepressible grace and humour. To read such unapologetically joyous work is a tonic for melancholy and a prescription for wonder. –Srikanth Reddy, Facts for Visitors
And a few short poems from the collection, though there are many longer ones to gleefully sink into:

THE OCTOPUS MAN, TO HIS SON

 

Son, watch the way the eaves bend when you breathe.

They move the way a star would

If you could corral water into spheres.

 

Shadows play in the paint under the floor:

Tentacular spirits!

They will hold your cages and laboratory equipment.

 

Your time as a human is near at hand;

I am repealing all the old regulations

Regarding prostrations and guttural pronouncements.

 

There will be things called Souvenir Shops;

Bring back an “I ♥ Mt. Rushmore” keychain for your mother.

 

~~

 

TOM DEVANEY, LON CHANEY

 

I snave this heaking suspicion

That the poung yoet, Tom Devaney,

Is really the mold oviestar, Lon Chaney.

If lou yisten to the way they laugh,

Or notice their hartling, storror movie eyes,

You’ll sefinitely dee

That they’re both obvious dasters of misguise.

 

 

AMY, I’M GOING TO CALL YOU THE TROUBLE GIRL

 

I like trouble. I like to shoot watermelon seeds at passing barges. I wanna

put Elmer’s Glue in your hair and make it stick straight up. I wanna go

down to the docks and kick some ass! Your shoes small like skunk. And

so do mine. If we were lizards, I bet we would both be geckoes with

sticky round fingers. A friend is someone who decides to find you out.

Let’s have a broken bottle party! A Chinese dude, Shih-Wu, said, “Pine

trees and strange rocks remain unknown to those who look for mind

with mind.” So let’s not bother. Let’s just walk arm in arm through a

crumbling metropolis, clacking castanets.

 

–From THE COMEBACK’S EXOSKELETON by Matthew Rotando

 

 

In the mood for one more? Try this one, complete with a nearly naked pic!

☻☺☻☺☻☺

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Dusie, Dusie, Dusie CHAPS!

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a bodyfeel lexicon. (gordon/bozek) dimestore operetta say. (bowen) developing poetic ideas. (chirot)
time space repetition. (armentrout) vie et pli. (giovenale) afar buzzing stars. (scappettone)
props of henwifery. (sprague) digress into residency. (berridge)
laced with forethought. (murphy) postcard of the. (tate) I posit no. (fieled)
erratogenic paraparasitic postpoem
. (goodland) erotic false consciousness. (ward) first swifts come. (shaeppi)
will be waxing. (art) &lipstick&moss&bodice. (carignan) flamenco pierced her. (tabios)
a citizen I. (snyder) engirth, discorrupt, linger. (workman) correspondence, obscure, reveal. (fletcher)
enhanced ego-interference patterning. (orange) fairly clear the. (boyer) telephone as intermediary. (hunter)
vista of verdancy
. (stengel) pale blue twilight. (phipps) (an historical site) magi.
little decisions thrumming
. (boykoff) writing records eden. (farr) production of hormones. (marcacci)
our crops far-flung
. (sand) going not gone. (hofer) informed by light. (compton)

my embroidery she (abulhassan) ruby large enow. (gardner) composition as process. (hayes) like you tiger-shock. (smith)
distance presence print. (pusateri) certain fields escape. (muench/allegrezza) fragile engines flashing. (detorie)
the great desire. (nakayasu)
behold a glimmering. (quimba) splendid drifts of. (kunz)
salt, line, obedience.
(cox/cox-farr) eyes glass hands. (lamoureux)
template, some vicissitude
. (mauro) little red song-book. (newman) imagistic kinetic dizzy. (stamatakis)
a need for. (behm-steinberg) gaga futurism pales. (cooper) a lavish spectacle. (deming)
him, wings adjacent. (heide) hands half face. (king) presently be said. (stempleman) known as “we”. (nelligan)
underground I go. (graham) adorn honour bright. (mangold) paced awning graces. (klinger)
courting in earnest. (spahr) grew inside we. (madison) a running plotline. (janssen)

AWP New York City

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Photo by Brent Cunningham, who voted me the one to “Most Likely Blog About This Blog.”

~~

* Ana and I hung out at the AWP bookfair for one day only. We paid no money, but luckily, I got to share a table with Cannibal, Kitchen Press, and Soft Targets. I saw lots of nice books, though I had no money; moreover, I chatted with lots of pleasant poets — too many to recount. But you should certainly see a few photos of said poets here.

* I’m sorry I missed Daniela Olszewska, who stopped by my table and left her chapbook for me while I was wandering. Thank you, Daniela!

* The always lovely Matthew Zapruder gave me a poetry bus t-shirt.

* William Howe slipped me Tom Orange’s “American Dialectics” hot off his Slack Buddha Press.

* Cannibal Books dropped Dustin Williamson’s “Exhausted Grunts” into my little hands.

* Matt Hart handed over “B^Sides” by his band, Travel. I’m looking forward to hearing what sounds emerge …

* John Deming passed along his Dusie chapbook, “Toadous,” forthcoming.

* Jennifer Bartlett stopped by with a copy of her most gorgeous “Derivative of the Moving Image.”

* Billy Collins came over and offered me his “dirty” candy bar, pictured below, which I accepted. I then offered him my latest book, which he politely accepted. I asked him to please not take it if he was going to give it away. He said he would read it and left. True story.

~~

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Not Thinking Alike

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“It is not best that we all should think alike, it is differences of opinion that make horse races.”

–Mark Twain

~~

A few new poems written by my non-pseudonym in Jacket Magazine:

* The Arm of Eden
* Where Bullfinches Go to Defy
* Two if by Land, I Do
* A Martyrdom Should Behave Us All

This is an early appearance as Jacket #35 is still under construction though you’ll find a little action there already.

Please enjoy!

~~

4 Responses to “Not Thinking Alike”

  1. Jim K. Says:
    January 31st, 2008 at 5:55 pm eLooks like Mark Twain has anxiety…
    …but wait, that’s correct.
    Love those, esp. the last two.
    The face is bold, looking in and out. -)
  2. Amy King Says:
    February 3rd, 2008 at 4:05 am eYay! I’m glad you liked them, Jim! It’s funny – Ana also said she liked the last two best too.
  3. ashok Says:
    February 4th, 2008 at 8:12 am eAll your poems are amazing, but “Two if by Land, I Do” has me reading and rereading and wondering. It’s probably no stretch to say it is an important poem, where you’ve gotten at the cosmic through the personal, all by one little twist – changing “do you want” to “do you believe.”It is really astounding to me how nuanced your political views are, how they comprehend so many issues most of us would abstract from the realm of politics.I sound nuts, don’t I.
  4. Jim K. Says:
    February 4th, 2008 at 9:08 pm eheh…not at all, Ashok. There are political, personal, and
    philosophical nuances swimming in that ocean. Your
    language and cultural tuning is astute.

Kiss Me With the Mouth of Your Country

 

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I have just finished sending out my chapbook copies for the DUSIE Chapbook Kollectiv.

The title is this post’s title. I have a few copies left over, so if you’re interested in receiving one – freely and imminently  – I’ll post it to you before the holidays.

My DUSIE chapbook from last year can now be viewed online here, “The Good Campaign“. Read a review of it by Chris Rizzo here or read another review of it by Fionna Doney Simmonds here.

5 Responses to “Kiss Me With the Mouth of Your Country”

  1. Jim K. Says:
    December 9th, 2007 at 4:00 am eI got it. I read it.
    The sound and touch are great. It’s beautiful!A leedle revu, all true: http://jimk-eclectics.blogspot.com/2007/12/kissed-into-another-country.html
  2. Gina Says:
    December 19th, 2007 at 4:41 pm eOh hey, if you still have copies, hook a sister up! xoxo
  3. Amy King Says:
    December 19th, 2007 at 9:01 pm eI got you, lady!
  4. Indran Amirthanayagam Says:
    December 19th, 2007 at 10:59 pm eI would love to read the poems if still available. cheers. Indran
  5. Amy King Says:
    December 20th, 2007 at 3:37 pm eIf you send me your snail mail address, I’ll send you a copy!

How Red Are Your Poppies?

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If you aren’t sure, read these new ones:

ARI BANIAS

“who is ghost”
“From Somewhere in the Middle”
“Find Love in Brooklyn Now!”
” If Fear Were the Teacher”

~~

KATE BELES

“Faulkner’s Caddy”
“Count Me In” –
“An Apology for my Father”
“The Signified”

~~

ANA BOZICEVIC-BOWLING

“Voicemail Anthem”
“Oranges”
“Fall Hopscotch”
“The Moment of Love! (a Board Game)”

~~

SAMPSON STARKWEATHER

“A Review of a Review of Robert Olen Butler’s Severance
“Prussian Dance Steps are Making a Comeback, Or a Review of a Review of Zoli by Colum McCann”
“A Review of Ms. Pac-Man”

~~

Enjoy!

Amy
MiPOesias Editor in Chief

~~

2 Responses to “How Red Are Your Poppies?”

  1. Jim K. Says:
    November 4th, 2007 at 8:38 pm eNice posting method, Amy.
    Makes the navigation much easier.
    Your mass-email was cool too. Harks back to
    the maillist groups before the Web.
    A friend of mine (Mark Schorr) sent out
    a poetry email-Journal. to a max. list
    of 700 people! emailing links is even more
    efective. Still works.
  2. Amy King Says:
    November 5th, 2007 at 5:20 pm eThanks, Jim! I like being able to get to things quickly and easily, without too many extra clicks – I start to feel like advertisers are tying me up and holding me down … the work is great, and I want folks to be able to access it now!

    Cheers~

Pardon My Dust

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 Kevin Cornell

And my absence. I’m at work on a number of things, including a tenure application. That means lots of non-blog time; I hope you’ll come back in a few weeks to find me rising from the dust, phoenix-like. Or zombie-ish, if necessary. Either way, there’s a distant blurry plan which will narrow its retina and find something of me in focus.

In the meantime, enjoy some poems I found in a random journal, “whis*key“, as well as a post from Stephen Vincent that is timely and political. Vincent posted this to the Poetics List, where he is a regular poster of merit.

~~

clouds like hatchets & carrot sticks

the clouds today over the sea
look like hatchets & carrot sticks,
mercury poisoning & green tea,
a frothing latte in a red mug
the teeth of a bloodhound,
throwing the i ching, rhapsody
in rebounding sheaves of gold
& glimmer, flesh & fasting
the mercilous pebble bath of
the raging ocean, french wine
marigolds on rye no mustard
the look on yr face when i
explained everything i would
do if you only gave me half
a chance, sleeves, buttons
retreating rings of the moon

mark s. kuhar

~~

in love with a raving liar

when you fell in love with me
i told you i worked for NASA
designing space shuttle components,
hell, it sounded better than
saying i worked at radio shack.
no, i don’t shop at the friggin’ mall
i go to volunteers of america
whenever i can, cheap 1970s suits
make me look like gabe kaplan on speed,
my idea of a good time is reading
the directions on the back of cereal boxes
but i’ll read them to you, twice if you want
if you’ll stay in love with me
just don’t believe everything i say, in fact
listen carefully, i’m only going to say this once,
i’m a raving liar
i’m a raving liar

mark s. kuhar

~~

And, as mentioned, from Stephen Vincent:

For urgent reading, go to Sy Hersh’s current New Yorker article on Cheney/Bush and Company’s apparently intractable intention to make ’surgical strikes’ on Iran and Syria.

These folks apparently want to play the Mideast like an old-fashioned juke box. Bing-Bing-Bing.

The consequences of such madness are beyond their concern or
imagination. Unless they are just committed to infinite global mayhem.

Such attacks – apart from being inevitably (more again) self-destructive of whatever remains of this ‘democracy’ – will drive gas prices through the ceiling.

Does one have to wonder much why Chevron just bought back 15 billion dollars worth of its own shares?

Are there any spines left in this ‘roll-over we serve your terror, Mr. Bush,’ Congress?

Stephen V

~~

2 Responses to “Pardon My Dust”

  1. Jim K. Says:
    October 2nd, 2007 at 9:00 pm eThose were nice pieces.
    NASA/Radio-Shack..
    “Gabe Kaplan on speed”…hahaha…reminds me
    of Napoleon Dynamite’s prom suit. Que vida.
    This is a frantic time all around, it seems.
    I did 15 things last night, and the sun cheats the
    day these days. Blah. Carry on, and good luck.
    Your conveyor belt will clear sometime.
  2. Michael Says:
    October 11th, 2007 at 12:13 pm e“I’m A Raving Liar” needs a musical soundtrack — even if only a bluesy accompaniment by acoustic guitar. I heard a college girl in the subway station last night (she was making her way through “You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman,” and I was happy to hear the news) — she could have done a good job on it. Especially like the joke-punchine at the end.