The following is a small excerpt from the 2007 George Carlin special "It's Bad For Ya." In some ways it is a humorous take on similar territory explored in the recent Robinson Jeffers post. Once again, Twain and Vonnegut and Swift come to mind, the great satirists who cared enough to rip their beloved fellow travelers a new one for the sake of redemption. The pitch Carlin builds here nearly takes him out of comedy all together; though he might have lost a step or two physically in his later years, he was never more scintillating, acerbic, and spot-on as in this portrait of the human condition. (It's hard to imagine that a language disclaimer is necessary at a small press poetry blog but here you go: George uses many of those famous seven words and more, so you've been warned).
As I mentioned in last Thursday's weekly post, due to schedule changes at my paying job, the archival posts will now be on Tuesday and this is the first. This week it's issue #57 of Lilliput Review, from June 1994. Hope you enjoy the selections, including a poem by the late Michael McNeilley, author of the Lilliput broadside 15 sexual haiku/senryu, a visual art/poem, and one for Kurt Cobain. Has it really been 14 years?
down they came
down they came and I wiped them out ----the bastards -------they'll be back I know -------sit over there ---so don't then they'll be back I tell you you'd better listen ---we'd better -------hurry we've just got time -------to get one in we'll be ready for them next time won't we but we'd better hurry -------shit here they come ----here -------take this no wait
Michael McNeilley
The Light Above It Is Burned Out
The stepladder's closed, leaning against the stacks.
If it were in Humanities, symbolism would shine all over.
In Government Documents, it waits for the maintenance man to get off break.
H. Edgar Hix
More InSerts
NowHere
Richard Kostelanetz
Global Village
The noon spider spins a porch-web, silk lines snaring my thought. I see 5.5 billion humans in a single fly abuzz by the dusk
Walt Franklin
Brautigan and Bukowski ------------i.m. kc With first light and your sigh, the heavy dew evaporates from the pane.
The first batch of new issues for subscibers went out this week and I am hopeful that the rest will follow over the next few weeks. Also announced is the publication of chapbook Number 19 in the Modest Proposal series, entitled The Turning Year: Japanese Nature Poems, translated by Dennis Maloney and Hide Oshiro.
The Turning Year is a companion volume to Unending Night: Japanese Love Poems, both of which are drawn from the classic 100 Poems by 100 Poets (Hyakunin Isshu). Both of these collections take a unique subject approach to a Japanese poetic classic and allow the reader to contemplate both the individual poems and their cultural milieu from distinctly unique perspectives. Those familiar with Dennis's translations of Yosano Akiko and others, both from this blog and as published in Lilliput Review, know that he stays true to the original while bridging the gaps from both classical and modern Japanese to modern English. His smooth, imagistic style is at once lyrical and economic, admirable qualities perfectly suited to the source material. Along with Hide Oshiro, they have put together a fine collection of nature poems that should entice anyone with even a casual interest in Eastern verse. Here are a few examples:
Beyond sight my thoughts turn to Kasuga temple near my home where above Mt. Mikasa the same moon shines.
Abe-no Nakamaro
At this place along the road, the known and unknown come and go, meet and part again, passing through the Osaka gate.
Semimaru
On this sudden trip to Takuke shrine I bring no prayer offering; God of the mountain path please accept the brocade of maple leaves surrounding us.
Kwanke
The Turning Year is a 19 page chapbook and sells for $3.00, postpaid. In a web-only publication launch, I'm offering the two volumes, The Turning Year and Unending Night, for $5.00 postpaid. For further information, email me at "lilliput review at gmail dot com".
In poetry info this week, it is Anne Sexton's birthday. She is a modern American favorite of mine and here she is reading her poem "Her Kind." This week the Best American Poetry Blog featured a posting on another personal favorite, Richard Brautigan. I'm not sure I agree with their contention that his poetry was not successful in his lifetime; I can't think of too many poets at the time who were more read than Brautigan but hey, maybe, all those funny mood altering whatzits beclouded me already fuzzy noggin. In any case, the posting reprints his "Your Catfish Friend," which seems to be hands down one of his most popular poems circa Internet 2008.
Finally in poetic news, William Carlos Williams' granddaughter has put out and appeal for folks to vote for WCW for the New Jersey Hall of Fame. Bruce is in already, so maybe it's time for someone a tad more lyrical. Williams is listed under the general category (Walt Whitman is listed under history - I'm wondering if there isn't going to be some nasty vote splitting there). You don't have to be politically minded or even from Jersey to vote and though they ask for your name, you can always dust off your old nom de plume if need be. Nobody is checking. If you are strategizing, you may want to tone down the Abbott and Costello vote - only two folks get in across all the categories so if you vote for other famous folks ... well, you get the idea.
Art by Bobo
This week's tour of the Lillie archive brings us to issue #67 from April 1995. Ah, that simpler time of the Contract of America, the Oklahoma City bombing, and the seemingly ubiquitous Unabomber. Ya know, come to think of it, the 90's had a kind of 80's feel without all that hair. Here's what was happening in this little world of the short poem.
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old fishing village -----caught ---------in morning mist
Patrick Sweeney
A Woman
A woman standing under the pier with her back to me, staring out at the ocean.
The water that slides up the beachface stops at her feet. I fall in love every day.
Andy Fogle
One Idea
The music of the night Calls me to come out Where insect voices sing Of universal peace And annihilation as one idea.
B. Kim Meyer
Rage
The rope that ties its own knots.
H. Edgar Hix
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Finally, here is Brobdingnag Feature Poem #27 by Mark Sonnenfeld. I'll give a free 6 issue subscription to Lilliput(or a 6 issue extension to your current subscription)to the first person who can tell me what he's talking about:
lawrence, KS
what I think about sometimes is old bridgeboards revving car engines that drag-race their dust to the rivers eerie current with all the mud + sand so high as now this river is nearby a church organist plays the daytime workmen listening from then her window in the land ladys rooming house sometime the boards pop at night a part of her left alone walking the old deserted pavilion she is drawn
Mark Sonnenfeld
For those who are not all that familiar with Lillie, the magazine features short poems, ten lines and under. Very occasionally, I will publish something longer under the heading Brobdingnag Feature poem. Hence, the above.
And, oh yeah, I do know what he's talking about ...