Apr 21

2 poems from ANOTHER SATURDAY NIGHT IN JUKEBOX HELL by Alan Catlin

Parallel Lives

Every city has one, a block God
forgot, some unofficial war zone,
demilitarized, but alive and active
with all the usual suspects cops roust
on periodic missions to clean up after
some particularly rowdy disturbance,
something so embarrassing, around
election day, even the mayor is moved
to act. After the votes have been counted,
results confirmed, the war goes on as before.
911 calls come in and cars are dispatched,
later rather than sooner, except, in cases
of extreme cruelty, events that make
front page news or, on occasion, CNN;
‘Fraternity hazing involved terrorist
techniques, pledges for unchartered
frat subjected to punishments, not unlike
water boarding, until they were forced
to beg for mercy.’
The cries from basement/ dungeon so loud,
so horrific, even cowed neighbors
could no longer endure the noise, could
only imagine what must be happening inside.
University officials assert they had
‘suspicions banned fraternity was still
accepting new members,’ as they had been,
banding and disbanding time and time
again, for fifty years, only the names
and faces changed.
Over time, the block is modified,
buildings burned out, abandoned,
strafed in territorial feuds, boarded up
or razed, salt sprinkled on the mounds left
behind, for sale signs riddled with bullet
holes, gang graffiti ornamented, relics
no one cares to recall or revisit.
All the former denizens, drug dealers,
and their whores moved on, occupying
new digs that soon resemble the old:
from Odell to Kelton, from Elberon to
Quail to Washington; forsaken places,
reclamation projects so far past due
only those with no future go there.
Time Has Come Today

“You don’t know what pain is.”
Buffalo Bill

Somewhere along the line,
someone had put him in a metal cell,
a kind of prefab hurt locker,
and forgot to let him out. Maybe,
pounded on the sides to like, rattle
his cage every now and then,
never letting any unnecessary light in,
no food, no water, no human contact,
nada for days, so that when the family
business, literally, went up in smoke,
a mobile home, meth lab, defoliation
death trap, only he would survive
the fast-burning fireball suffused with
strange colors, sick smells of chemicals
and bad meat, a black hole where
the concrete pad had been.
He’d feel no remorse for confederate
flag ensemble wearing dad, a former
weightlifting skinhead gone to fat,
not completely weaned yet from his
Rebel Yell and his emaciated, toothless
straw haired, unwashed, skank of a woman,
something like thirty-nine going on
seventy, maybe his mother, maybe not.
Where he was going time was measured
in scorched spoonful’s of street, ampoules
and syringes, black market product mined
from god’s black earth.

Another Saturday Night in Jukebox Hell by Alan Catlin is now available at https://www.magicaljeep.com/product/jukebox/162

The smartass bartender, narrator, is locked in a bar with thousands of uninvited guests. The jukebox is virtual which means it is practically infinite and people can and will play music Loud for hours while the hapless, somewhat hard of hearing bartender tries to make the best of this “disco inferno” ( though the music is rarely if ever remotely disco like). Our bartender refers to the jukebox as the infernal machine and the guests are demons with unlimited credit. Snarky, irreverent and based on actual firsthand experience.

Alan Catlin worked for the better part of 34 years in his unchosen profession as a barman in and around the greater Albany, NY area. He has published dozens of chapbooks and full-length books focusing on his work and the people he met while laboring in the trenches of bar warfare.

“Like a sequel to his previous collection of bar poems, Bar Guide for the Seriously Deranged, Alan Catlin’s new collection begins, appropriately, in Hell, among those condemned to short, sad, violent lives of pain, humiliation, and self-destruction. There are many doors to Hell, he confides. “The one you choose is always / the wrong one.” The whores, the drug addicts, the gang members, the “karaoke killers”: they’ve all walked in through different entrances but wound up in the same place. Fate? In “Maybe it was meant,” Catlin philosophizes: “to be, to end this way, / a life spent on the edge / always playing a loser’s / hand but pretending /otherwise, and fooling / no one.” Another Saturday Night in Jukebox Hell has moments of humor and scenes of poignance, all so familiar, all so human, all so doomed, all so damned. Belly up to the bar, have a seat. Drink it all in!”—Charles Rammelkamp, author of The Trapeze of Your Flesh

“This the kind of place the children and grandchildren of the Dead-End Kids would go. They’d call themselves something like the Wild Bunch or the Wrecking Crew and the bartender, good to his word, would be taking notes and writing it all down. If you see yourself in these poems, it’s your own fault.”—Elenora Fagan, poet, lyricist

“If hell opened up all its’ gates, gave every good citizens a couple of hundred bucks to spend at happy hour; they’d end up at this bar, super-charged and ready to go, making up for lost time.”—Patrick Allen, occasional poet

Apr 20

Review by Alan Catlin: How to Play House by Heather Dorn

Heather Dorn, How to Play House, Roadside Press, 2023, 116 pages $15

“Heather Dorn is a real mom with real life issues. She’s more Journal of a Mad Housewife than Kate Middleton, though she’s not a stuck at home mom going crazy with her kids but a PhD in English Literature who teaches at the University in Binghamton. She has real health issues (a pacemaker to cope with heart failure) whose wild days of youth are way, way back in the past and can never be, even remotely, repeated. She (and no doubt most of us) reveled in crazy, bad choices who made total fools of ourselves during them and Dorn recounts them convincingly with wit and humor. Most of all, Dorn has a strong, readily identifiable voice; a mother we’d like to know, voice.

“Drawing a contrast between herself and the aforementioned Kate Middleton, Dorn is the mom with spaghetti-o’s on her blouse, coffee stains too, no doubt, while Kate looks beauty parlor fresh after giving birth. Heather confesses she looked like, well, she just gave birth after all three of her children. As Dorn says, Kate doesn’t give interviews. She doesn’t speak. She’s not a real person. Heather Dorn is most definitely a real person and it goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway, a real poet.”—Alan Catlin

first published in Misfit Magazine

Apr 17

Excerpt from Unknowable Things by Kerry Trautman

Because, Brian

I liked you at first, because your dad fixed a flat on my mom’s Pontiac in his robe, and because of your black jelly bean eyes and big-toothed laugh, and because you almost almost rubbed my thigh. But I bought off-the-shoulder homecoming velvet for someone else, because of your seaweed smell, because of the taste of our one kiss—wet with salts of sweat and Fritos, because it was October and you were nothing, because we were sixteen.

Stray

Was it cruel to have lured the stray cat
these weeks closer to my fingertips,
to teach him petting?

It was a new thing—involuntary
joy on skin terms.
Fur can’t help that it’s reached-for.

When I had asked the older boy’s sister
for his number
she warned
he’s sometimes not nice to girls.

The cat cries at the door now
for more than just a bowl of food.

The boy was patient with me,
clasping my button fly.
It was a new thing—him hearing wait.
It was a new thing—me being clambered-upon.

Small bodies should be born
knowing what
love feels like on skin terms.

Nights are long
with only wind smoothing haunches.
Is it worth it to crouch,
inch forward toward the dish of a palm?

If this doesn’t work,
he warned himself and me and unknown others,
I’ll go back to the way I was.

Purring is involuntary, internal.
Claws are internal except
when they are externalized.

What rule did I break by ending it?
What reward did I owe his try at patience?
What continuance do fingertips owe other skin?

Is heartbreak more or less
humane than starvation?

Body as Bird as Body

As a wren, she shrunk into shrubbery.
But not as wren—
no brief wings to shudder skyward.

As a starling, she insinuates herself
into murmurations, a lost-ness of black
on blue on black on blue.

As a barn owl, imperceptible
shadows in rafters.
But not as owl—not sparing the meat.

As a heron, twiggy stillness
sculpturing, obvious above
duckweed and cattails.

As a peahen, beige
full of eggs
behind blue fans of eyes.

As a wren, air barely
exerts beneath.
But not as a wren—of soil.

Store-bought Cookies

She ate oversweet cookies enough
to be ashamed of, thinking,
Damn him. Him just one more thing
to be unsure of—like the false
alarm of foreboding clouds,
the symmetry or not of butterflies’ wings,
the doneness of a baking
breadloaf’s deepest soft insides.

These cookies, she knew.
These crumbs sanding her cleavage,
these chocolate chips re-softened
by her lips’ heat,
these sweet starches brittle
between her teeth,
these things she knew
when confronted with them,

with their uniform rows
nestled in their plastic tray.
She knew how to slit open the wrapping,
knew how many would satisfy,
how many would make her feel ill,
how they felt inside her—
the same each
and every time.

Now available at https://www.magicaljeep.com/product/unknowable/108

Ohio born and raised, Kerry Trautman is a founder of ToledoPoet.com and the “Toledo Poetry Museum” page on Facebook, which promote Northwest Ohio poetry. Her work has appeared in dozens of anthologies and journals, including Slippery Elm, Free State Review, Mock Turtle Zine, Paper & Ink, Disappointed Housewife, Limp Wrist, Midwestern Gothic, and Gasconade Review. Kerry’s books are Things That Come in Boxes (King Craft Press 2012,) To Have Hoped (Finishing Line Press 2015,) Artifacts (NightBallet Press 2017,) To be Nonchalantly Alive (Kelsay Books 2020,) and Marilyn: Self-Portrait, Oil on Canvas (Gutter Snob Books 2022.)

Unknowable Things is a breathtaking collection of poetry by Kerry Trautman that explores the depths of the human experience with stark honesty and unflinching candor. Through evocative and powerful language, Trautman masterfully crafts the weight of human existence into poetry that is universal, self-reflective, and sincerely beautiful.

Each poem in this collection is a testament to Trautman’s skill at pulling deeper meaning out of the everyday ordinary, and her words are written with a smooth, polished, and tender touch. From start to finish, “Unknowable Things” is seamless, with not a word wasted or misplaced.

This collection is perfect for readers who are looking for poetry that speaks to the human condition in a powerful and relatable way. Whether you are an avid reader of poetry or new to the genre, we hope that these words will resonate with you and leave a lasting impression on your heart. So take a moment to slow down and savor each verse, allowing the rhythm and imagery to transport you to a world of introspection and self-discovery. We hope you will find solace and inspiration in these pages, and that you will return to them again and again as you navigate your own journey through the mysteries of the human experience.

“Unknowable Things is seamless start to finish. Not a word wasted, or misplaced. No splinters. Each poem written with stark honesty, unflinching, yet smooth, polished and tender. Trautman masters the art of pulling deeper meaning out of the everyday ordinary, and effortlessly crafts the weight of human existence into poetry that is universal, self-reflective and outright beautiful.”—Dan Denton, author of Finding Jesus & Prayers to my Saints

“Unknowable Things reads as if you’re holding a personal notebook that has somehow accidently been misplaced, only to wind up in your hands. Should you be reading Kerry Trautman’s personal notebook? Yes? No? You know, they say that there is excitement and enjoyment that comes from doing things that you know you shouldn’t do…so do it…get excited and enjoy how Trautman writes with a laid bare honesty that’s crafted and at times sharp enough to cut deep to the bone, like a sliver of a broken mirror that we can all see small pieces of our own reflections in. Trust me, it’s a beautiful thing.”—Victor Clevenger, author of 47 Poems

Apr 16

Excerpt from Abandoned By All Things by Karl Koweski

abandoned by all things

my brother phones
late at night,
he’s been drinking again,
asking if I might write
a few poetic lines
in honor of
our dead father
so Richie G can
temporarily immortalize
the words on
his forearm below
the half-finished angel,
a tribute to a dad
he vaguely remembers
from his early youth.

I haven’t written
anything
in nearly a year.
not sure I want
to start now
with this.

brother,
no angel of the
heavenly variety
ever gazed favorably
upon the actions
of our father.
his prayers
never extended beyond
the patron saint of
fast women
and slow horses.

thirty years dead, now,
he lorded over nothing
more regal than
a push broom
and mop bucket.

his navy blue shadow
and watchmen cap halo
have receded into
a dull oblivion
of purposefully
forgotten memories.

I have nothing
more to offer
as eulogy.
he lived and died
as we live and die,
abandoned by all things.

there is no money in coloring for the flipper-armed masses

I learned the correlation
between art and commerce
at the age of seven years
when, having crayoned
through an entire Black Hole
movie tie-in coloring book
I showed my work to Dad
for his artistic critique.

a day later, he gave
a dollar to me, saying
he sold the coloring book
to a lady at his job site.

even so young, my father’s
words struck me as implausible.
why would anyone want
to buy a coloring book that
had already been colored?

my father furrowed his brow,
said something about the
woman’s son having been born
with flippers for arms
unable to color his own.
the explanation was
good enough for me.

I rifled through my room
gathering all my old coloring
books and during a hand
cramping Crayola marathon,
managed to fill every
blank page within.

I presented the eight book trove
to my father the next evening
estimating enough capital
represented by that artwork
to purchase three Star Wars figures.

he returned home from work
empty-handed, citing
market saturation and
an increase in supply
versus a decrease in demand,
there being only so many mothers
raising flipper-armed children.

but I figured he just
took the money he earned
from my artistic endeavors
and spent it on booze,
and I vowed from that moment
on, never again to use an
intermediary to sell any
of my masterpieces, again.

Now available at https://www.magicaljeep.com/product/abandon/164

Karl Koweski is a displaced Region Rat now living in rural Alabama. He writes when his pen allows it. He’s a husband to a lovely wife and father to some fantastic kids. He collects pop culture ephemera. On most days he prefers Flash Gordon to Luke Skywalker and Neil Diamond to Elvis Presley.

“Unless you’re Charles Bukowski (dead) or Billy Collins (alive) the world doesn’t give a rat’s ass about your poetry. Instagram and TikTok poets may be taking the world by storm but I don’t know about it. Karl Koweski gets it. I adore the lack of pretension in this collection. No pretense, no bullshit, no pulpit. These are not the holier than thou words of some hipster poet speaking down to you from the heights of an overturned craft beer crate but the real words of a writer who has fucking lived and loved. A lot of poetry collections I’ve read in recent years have ended up in the free library at the duck park. I’ll hold onto Under Normal Conditions and Abandoned By All Things because several of the poems made me laugh until I cried and as I read I thought, “I have got to share these with my son.””—Misti Rainwater-Lites, Author of Clown Gravy and others

“Karl Koweski’s latest book Abandoned By All Things is Karl at his best. It reads as a poetry memoir, maybe embellished or maybe just fact the way he remembers it. It doesn’t matter it is written with a poet’s eye and it will have you turning the page, wanting more from the very first poem about coming of age with rolled up socks to burning hipsters alive to of course the Cubs losing to the true mission of all cub scouts. It is not always politically correct and that is what makes it good. It is every boy growing up and reflecting back on what was lost and found. It is being honest about the dumb things we did growing up, about being a father. It is the origin, the birth of the Polish Hammer. But most of all, it is without a doubt a great collection of poems that you will be happy to read more than once.”—Scot Young, author of They Said I Wasn’t College Material and others

Apr 14

Review by Lori Howe: Ain’t These Sorrows Sweet by Lauren Scharhag

In Ain’t These Sorrows Sweet, Lauren Scharhag invites readers into her hand, lifts us across space and time, and offers us the nourishment of memory cached in beans and light, in tomatoes and rosaries and barbacoa. She illuminates the crossroads of time and history and inheritance as they culminate in our own mouths and are stitched into our skins. In an elegant handful of words, she invites us inside her life: “I tasted time in each umami bite. I tasted 15,000 years…and though I am not full-blooded,/ I am full.” (“Sorting the Beans,” p. 3)

These are the poems of a woman who feels the weight of the past and the urgency of the now. As she reminds us in the fine poem, “Two Inches,” “We pass through the days like a funnel, not realizing/how it gets smaller and smaller towards the end,” and with this call to living our precious, fragrant lives, urges us to enjoy the treasure of love and intimacy in “Snow, Frost, Moon”: “We must not/waste these long nights./Silver dawn will find the thrash/of the snow angels we’ve left behind.”

This book is a feast replete with cilantro and the ache of women’s laughter, enough to sustain us through any unexpected bleakness, and back into the light, eyes afire, hungry.

—Lori Howe, author of Cloudshade: Poems of the High Plains (Sastrugi Press, 2015) and Voices at Twilight (Sastrugi, 2016). Founding Editor in Chief, Gleam: Journal of the Cadralor. Lorihowe.com.

Apr 10

Review by Linnet Phoenix: Ain’t These Sorrows Sweet by Lauren Scharhag

Today, I finished reading Ain’t These Sorrows Sweet and what a journey we have been on, through dark places, wonderfully described: “Burned out encampments in railroad yards give no scent of myrrh.” This book contains beautiful, heart-wrenching narrative poems which it has been a tearstained pleasure to read. I realised that the book was a tour of grief in all its many forms. But it was deeply personal & equally universal. Who of us hasn’t felt: “I want to whisper to this broken bouquet it’s all right, darlings, I wasn’t good enough either.” In-between starting to read this book and finishing today, I suddenly, tragically, lost a very dear friend of mine. Someone who was so part of the furniture of my day-to-day world that it felt like the world had tilted off its axis. I found, as I moved further on in this book, that there came soothing tones: “I wonder what it’s like to live on sweetness and air, to have every branch and sprig a suitable bed for spinning dreams.” But, without a doubt, I was left with overriding feelings that were visceral and clear. I caught Covid for a second time just after the bereavement, and currently am struggling with if I will regain my senses of taste and smell. So, imagine my sense of synchronicity when I found a poem containing that same fear. These poems are indeed as the writer describes: “Now, when I think of poetry, I think it should be like that: hot, gleaming steel.” I would recommend this book to those who have known grief landing as it does, with clawed feet & black feathers. Creaking as it does, with black canine pad-foot and rancid breath; for, in the open, vulnerable, humanity of the writer sharing her personal history and world, you may find comfort and a hand to hold.

—Linnet Phoenix, author of Urban Mustang

Ain’t These Sorrows Sweet can be ordered at https://www.magicaljeep.com/product/sorrows/166

Apr 03

Review by Anthony Mangos: INNOCENT POSTCARDS by John Pietaro

‘Innocent Postcards’: Progressive poetry reflects 20th-century politics and culture

by Anthony Mangos, People’s World

Author-poet-musician John Pietaro has been a constant, positive force in the ongoing progressive culture of New York City. Hailing from Brooklyn, Pietaro’s passions are equal parts literature, music, workers’ rights, and social activism. He founded the Dissident Arts and Brecht Lives! festivals, and fronts the poetry/punk jazz ensemble the Red Microphone, who regularly record and perform in the New York City area. Pietaro’s latest project, Innocent Postcards: Poetry, Ciphers, Verse, is a collection of poems and verse recalling the 20th-century era of Cold War, cool jazz, and American pop culture.

The collection is thought-provoking, influenced by mid-century jazz and politics…read the full review here https://www.peoplesworld.org/article/innocent-postcards-progressive-poetry-reflects-20th-century-politics-and-culture/

Mar 28

Interview with Leon Horton, editor of GREGORY CORSO: TEN TIMES A POET

First published at:
https://blues.gr/profiles/blogs/q-a-with-countercultural-writer-interviewer-and-editor-leon-horto
Interview by Michael Limnios

Q&A with countercultural writer, interviewer, and editor Leon Horton; editor of book Gregory Corso: Ten Times a Poet

 

“Where would we be without it? Literature helps us to understand the world, to see and feel and empathise with other cultural values, other points of view. It stimulates our thinking and, on a very basic level, entertains us.”

Leon Horton: Under the Counterculture

Leon Horton is a countercultural writer, interviewer, and editor. A regular contributor to International Times and Beatdom, his essays and interviews include “Hunter S. Thompson: Fear and Loathing in utero”; “Keeper of the Sacred Scrolls: An Interview with Bill Morgan”; “Charles Bukowski: Only Tough Guys Shit Themselves in Public”; and Gerald Nicosia: Jack Kerouac in the Bleak Inhuman Loneliness”. He is the editor of a forthcoming book Gregory Corso: Ten Times a Poet, a collection of essays, memoirs, poetry, photography, and artwork in celebration of the legendary Beat poet. His new book Gregory Corso: Ten Times a Poet (Roadside Press) will be available from Amazon in June 2024 or can be pre-ordered at magicaljeep.com.

(Photo: Leon Horton, a countercultural writer, interviewer, and editor)

He has written several feature articles on Beat-related subjects, most recently a piece on the English artist Jeff Nuttall for Beat Scene Magazine. Leon says: “For me, it all started when a friend lent me a copy of Naked Lunch, sometime back in 1991/92. I’d never even heard of William Burroughs or the Beat Generation at that time. I read Naked Lunch in one sitting, coming down from an acid trip, and I couldn’t put it down. I couldn’t believe what I was reading, let alone that it was written and published in the late 1950s / early 60s. I haven’t looked at the world in the same way since.”

 

Interview by Michael Limnios

How has underground literature and the counterculture influenced your views of the world?

For me, it all started when a friend lent me a copy of Naked Lunch, sometime back in 1991/92. I’d never even heard of William Burroughs or the Beat Generation at that time. I read Naked Lunch in one sitting, coming down from an acid trip, and I couldn’t put it down. I couldn’t believe what I was reading, let alone that it was written and published in the late 1950s / early 60s. I haven’t looked at the world in the same way since.

How did the idea for Gregory Corso: Ten Times a Poet come about?

It was on a trip to Athens. I was standing on the Acropolis, staring out across the city, lost in some sort of spiritual moment, when it dawned on me that I was standing where Gregory himself once stood. I determined there and then I was going to write something about his adventures in Greece. That essay, which is included in Ten Times a Poet, was subsequently published in the literary journal Beatdom in 2022. Shortly after, I made a throwaway comment on Twitter to a publisher about doing a Chapbook in celebration of Corso. The publisher (who shall remain nameless) was very keen but turned out to be a complete crook and the whole thing collapsed. Thankfully, Michele McDannold at Roadside Press was interested and wanted to develop the project into a full-length book. It’s down to her hard work, diligence, and patience with me that the book is going to be published. It’s taken a long time, with more and more brilliant writers, photographers, and artists coming on board – Anne Waldman, Ed Sanders, Neeli Cherkovski to name but three – and I think the result is a testament to Corso’s legacy.

What was it about Gregory’s life and work that touched you?

It’s curious, but I was quite dismissive of Gregory when I first read about him in the biographies of the other Beats or saw him in documentaries. I thought he was just a bitter hangover. It wasn’t until I started to read his poetry and learn about the trauma he faced in childhood and beyond that I realized what a remarkable survivor, what an incredible poet he was; capable of great humour and beautiful insight into the human condition.

He could be a nightmare to deal with, I know, but the outpouring of love for Gregory in Ten Times a Poet from those who knew, worked and lived with him just astounded me. Allen Ginsberg said Gregory was a better poet than himself. He was damn right.

Why do you think the Beat Generation continues to generate such a devoted following?

Well, we all love a rebel, don’t we? On some fundamental level, we need voices of dissent – especially in these shit-storm days we are currently living through. I don’t know; this is actually a difficult question to answer. I guess much of what the Beats said and did and wrote about in their time remains as pertinent, as true today, as it was back then – that need and willingness to cry out, “No, I won’t do as you say, go fuck yourself!”

How important is music to you? Does music affect your mood and inspiration?

Music has been hugely important throughout my entire life. My mother was (and still is) a huge fan of The Rolling Stones – I was listening to them in the womb. Growing up, I got to hear mum’s favourites: Rock ’N’ Roll, Motown, Soul, Blues… When I moved to Manchester in the late 1980s, I became friends with a lot of people, many of them musicians, who introduced me to so many different kinds of music and just opened up my world.

Does music affect my mood and inspiration? Even though I know nothing about it, I sometimes have jazz playing on the radio when I’m working. There’s something in those (wordless) beats and rhythms that I find conducive to writing.

What has been the most interesting period in your life?

Well, moving to Manchester in 1989 was precipitous – just in time to experience the so-called “Madchester” scene. It was like an explosion, with the legendary Factory Records and bands such as The Happy Mondays, The Stone Roses, and – my all time personal favourite – The Fall. There was no other band like The Fall. And two or three times a week we’d be popping pills and dancing our nuts off in the Hacienda. For a while there, albeit briefly, the Hacienda was the most famous nightclub on the planet and Manchester seemed like the centre of the universe. I didn’t see it at the time, of course, but when I think about it now I realise we were living through cultural history.

“Well, we all love a rebel, don’t we? On some fundamental level, we need voices of dissent – especially in these shit-storm days we are currently living through. I don’t know; this is actually a difficult question to answer. I guess much of what the Beats said and did and wrote about in their time remains as pertinent, as true today, as it was back then – that need and willingness to cry out, “No, I won’t do as you say, go fuck yourself!”” (Photo: Leon Horton, editor of book Gregory Corso: Ten Times a Poet)

Do you have a dream project you’d most like to accomplish?

Oh, yes. I’m working on a book about the 1965 International Poetry Incarnation that took place at the Royal Albert Hall. Seventeen poets performed that night, including Allen Ginsberg, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and Gregory Corso – but it was more than just a “Beats in Britain” thing. It was the event that is widely regarded as kick-starting the whole countercultural scene in the UK. Just before he passed away in 2023, I was lucky enough to interview poet and musician Pete Brown, who performed that night. Pete, as I’m sure you know, started out as a jazz poet and went on to write the lyrics for Cream’s “I Feel Free” and “White Room”. He was a remarkable man and a brilliant raconteur.

What socio-cultural impact does literature have today?

Where would we be without it? Literature helps us to understand the world, to see and feel and empathise with other cultural values, other points of view. It stimulates our thinking and, on a very basic level, entertains us. The mediums and the modes have changed with the rise of social media and other platforms – but that isn’t always a bad thing. I tend to look at it as similar to the mimeograph revolution and all the “little magazines” of the 1950s / 60s that helped democratise literature and give new writing a voice.

Let’s take a trip in a time machine. Where and when would you like to go? And what memorabilia / music would you take with you?

Oh, that’s easy. I’d go back to five minutes before Elton John’s parents were about to get down to it, with a copy of his greatest hits, and I’d say, “Oi! You two! No!” And then I’d play them the album and show them what the future will be if they don’t just stop what they’re doing.

What meetings / interviews have been the most important to you? Are there any memories you’d like to share?

Writing for International Times and Beatdom, I’ve had the honour and great fortune to interview some important names in Beat studies: Bill Morgan (author of The Typewriter is Holy and I Celebrate Myself: The Somewhat Private Life of Allen Ginsberg), Gerald Nicosia (author of the superb Kerouac biography Memory Babe).

The one that stands out for me, however, was an interview with Victor Bockris for his forthcoming book, The Burroughs-Warhol Connection. Victor is an interviewer’s wet dream. The stories he told me, of the incredible artists he has either interviewed or written about – William Burroughs, Patti Smith, Keith Richards, Lou Reed, Debbie Harry… Pure gold! The dinner party he threw for Burroughs, Mick Jagger and Andy Warhol was nothing short of a disaster. I was crying with laughter when he told me about it.

Mar 26

review by Mala Rai: These Are the People in Your Neighbourhood by Jordan Trethewey

review of THESE ARE THE PEOPLE IN YOUR NEIGHBOURHOOD by Jordan Trethewey, originally published in Miramichi Reader at https://miramichireader.ca/2024/03/these-are-the-people-in-your-neighbourhood-by-jordan-trethewey/

These Are the People In Your Neighbourhood by Jordan Trethewey

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Jordan Trethewey’s tribute to the people of Fredericton, a city I have never been to,  travelled nearly 5400km westward for a curious read. Civic poetry is a unique way of getting the scoop on what to really pay attention to in an unfamiliar space: the people. In reading about people from away (from me, at least), we get to learn something pretty nifty: Frederictonians! They are just like us! Strip away the named location, and these poems may as well be familiar and relatable to those living in many west coast cities and towns. The beauty of this 2021 – 2024 poet laureate’s work is that it is accessible to all — not just a love letter to Fredericton, but a gift for anyone to pick up and feel seen. Intimate themes of family, grief, immigrant loneliness, relationships requited and unrequited, obstacles overcome and succumbed to are just a few which echo throughout this collection. What makes this work even more special is that each poem is a tribute to a real person, living or dead, or to Fredericton itself.

To turn these strangers into neighbours, Trethewey crafts each poem with a unique voice to represent the recipient of its dedication. In “Passion Begets (for Matt Carter)”, we can hear Matt listening to CBC’s Brave New Waves in the 80s, making that first perhaps grudging realization when we notice a bit of our parents in our teenage selves. In “Sitting Outside a Bank Kiosk, Embarrassing Money in My Hand (for Keegan Burgess)”, we feel Keegan’s  guilt as he puts his own worries aside and acknowledges a street busker and addict with the gift of attention. We see Caelia Sutton in “Twin Flames from Dying Embers”, an abusive relationship survivor making meaningful reconnection on a new path to love.

Many of these works are delivered with engaging storytelling. There is no need for deep analysis and interpretation of what the poet is trying to convey. Each poem is someone’s personal story, and they are shared generously. In “Adversity Builds (For Bob Dewar)”:

 

In hospital that day, one floor below,

 

Bob’s son is born. Prompts his mantra;

 

be calm in the face of adversity,

 

and there’s a lot of adversity.

 

The stanzas capture scenes from an episode in the life of someone you could know. We don’t need to know THEE Bob, but we might encounter someone like him rather easily. Maybe we are Bob.

After every few poems, there are vivid cityscape and neighbourhood scenes depicted in watercolour artwork inserts by Eva Christensen. And much like Trethewey’s poems, these images reflect something very inviting and charming. At times, there is an an aesthetic familiarity of one’s local cafe or pub. When we travel, it’s natural to seek out such places offering community. If you’re lucky, you may not need to travel all that far. Hopefully it’s in your neighbourhood.

Details:

Fredericton Poet Laureate Jordan Trethewey (2021-2024) lives in Nashwaaksis, with his wife, son, and daughter. Jordan writes poetry, drama, children’s literature, historical and short fiction. His writing appears in national and international journals…and on the right shoulder blade of a fan. He is an editor at the on-line literary journal Open Arts Forum. Some of his work is also translated in Vietnamese, Farsi, and French.

Publisher: Roadside Press (December 2023)
Watercolour Illustrations: Eva Christensen
Paperback 6″ x 9″ | 200 pages
ISBN: 979-8865775249

Mar 24

Gregory Corso: Ten Times a Poet

The much-anticipated Corso book can now be pre-ordered at https://www.magicaljeep.com/product/corso/165

GREGORY CORSO: TEN TIMES A POET (Roadside Press, 2024) Cover Art by Jonathan Collins. Compiled & Edited by Leon Horton. Co-Editor: Michele McDannold. Contributions by Raymond Foye, Kurt Hemmer, Gregory Stephenson, Ryan Mathews, Jay Jeff Jones, Westley Heine, A. Robert Lee, Ed Sanders, Miriam Sanders, Michael Limnios, Leon Horton, Dan Richter, Kaarina Hollo, Kirby Olson, Gerald Nicosia, Kaye McDonough, Robert Yarra, Neeli Cherkovski, Francis Kuipers, Nina Zivancevic, Ron Whitehead, Kyle Roderick, Dick Ellis, Hugo Frey, Anne Waldman, Rosemary Manno, Chris Felver, Dario Bellini, George Scrivani and William Lessard.

 

298 pages
7.5 x 9.25 in.
English
ISBN 979-8-9902309-0-3

After Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs, Gregory Corso (1930-2001) was the fourth “Daddy” of the socio-literary movement they called the Beat Generation. Those “angel-headed hipsters” who came to prominence in the 1950s were the voice of a disaffected generation of renegades, rebels, and rabble-rousers in the post-war conservative years of President Eisenhower. They’d had enough of conformity, they weren’t going to take it anymore, and they blew just as loud and as deep as their beloved jazz music.

With contributions from such Beat luminaries as Anne Waldman, Gerald Nicosia, Ed Sanders, Rosemary Manno, Neeli Cherkovski, Ron Whitehead, Kaye McDonough, Chris Felver, and many others, Gregory Corso: Ten Times a Poet is a visual and literary feast in celebration of the life and work of the legendary poet. From his traumatic childhood in New York, to his incarceration in Clinton Prison, from his adventures in Greece to his escapades in Rome, from the cradle to the crypt, from his own lips, Gregory Corso didn’t just write poetry – he lived it, with every fiber of his being.

“Composed of memoir, poems, biography, interviews, and literary criticism, Gregory Corso: Ten Times a Poet celebrates and explores the contradictions and brilliance of a misunderstood street bard and visual artist. This fresh appraisal of Corso, which fills in biographical gaps, tells new stories, and appraises his verse, is a reminder that he never stopped being a poet even when his reputation preceded his artistry. As the writers gathered here attest, Corso’s description of poetry as “risked and fevered thinking” belies his mastery of form. His poems were a “refinement of beauty out of a destructive atmosphere,” as Allen Ginsberg put it, in which death, humor, truth, and beauty, love, laugh and brawl.”—Douglas Field, author of Walking in the Dark: James Baldwin, My Father, and me.

“I love this book so much I read it three times. The great thing about Gregory Corso: Ten Times a Poet is the brilliant reminiscences, literary essays, explication of childhood, photographs, interviews, and obituaries that unite the wild man running through his life and the deep poet delivering his final book, The Golden Dot. Read it. Then read it again.”—Victor Bockris, author of The Burroughs-Warhol Connection and With William Burroughs: A Report from the Bunker.

“Reading the essays, memoirs, and other material in Gregory Corso: Ten Times a Poet widened my awareness of who he was. It’s a warts and all portrait that is painted, and I’m glad about that. It would have been wrong to try to show him as perfect in any form, poet or person. The main point is that the best work will survive, as it ought to do.”—Jim Burns, contributor to Beat Scene / author of Modernists, Bohemians, Mavericks.

“I am telling everyone that it is without doubt the most important book published on Corso thus far.”—Gerald Nicosia, author of Memory Babe: A Critical Biography of Jack Kerouac.

“Finally, the tribute Corso deserves. Over the past few decades we have witnessed a surge of interest in the Beat writers, with Beat studies growing into a vibrant literary field, but as he was in life, Corso remains an outsider even in death. Gregory Corso is not an easy man to write about, but thankfully, we now have Ten Times a Poet, a wonderful collection of essays and poems and interviews in celebration of this most remarkable of men.”—David S. Wills, editor of Beatdom / author of High White Notes: The Rise and Fall of Gonzo Journalism.