When I was in Seattle last January, I purchased a used copy of The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart: A Poetry Anthology (1992) edited by Robert Bly, James Hillman, and Michael Meade. Inside is an inscription written in simple print with a signature that caught my eye -- the "Y" of Jerry's name wraps around … Continue reading Giving the ‘Gift’ of Poetry: “Who knows what may come of that?”
Many months ago I tried my hand at the pantoum form, using lines pulled from "last letters," to produce a series of poems that are simultaneously haunting, anxious, and desperate. I'm proud to say that on April 20 all four were published in Chicago's Literary Orphans magazine (Issue 24: Audrey). Here's the title poem: “The sun … Continue reading My poetic sequence “The Sun is Leaving the Hill Now” in Literary Orphans
“Only the first ten years matter,” a Minnesota State Prison inmate told John Carter, and "[w]hether or not the first ten years are all that matter, there is no doubt that the first six months are by no means six little drops of time.” It was 1905 and as the 19-year-old Carter listened, he settled … Continue reading John Carter of Minnesota: The “Convict Poet” Who Won His Freedom
In order to familiarize myself with the work of English poet Philip Larkin, I recently read his 1982 interview with The Paris Review (its famous "Art of Poetry" series is a resource I encourage all writers to check out). Regarded as one of England's top poets, during his lifetime Larkin shied away from his fame, working … Continue reading Philip Larkin on reading versus hearing poetry
I was saddened to read about the death of Tomas Tranströmer, the Swedish Nobel Prize-winning poet. Perhaps like so many others, I'd discovered Tranströmer late, and in fact, when he'd won the prize in 2011, it was my first exposure to him. Unfortunately, as this was around the time I'd decided to to become a Serious Writer, my … Continue reading The Death of Tomas Tranströmer
Recently speaking at the Iowa Freedom Summit, former Alaskan governor Sarah Palin gave a speech that, as one writer for the conservative National Review wrote, was "meandering and often bizarre." Satirist Jon Stewart had a field day with this, of course, comparing Palin's speech to those Lincoln commercials where Matthew McConaughey drives around making sounds. This criticism, though, is unfair. I mean, sure, if you're a philistine everything she said was stupid, babbling nonsense (that's because you're a philistine), but just look at how Palin's speech has been excerpted/butchered by the mainstream media (note the formatting) ...
... I'm posting here my submission, which I wrote some time in the fall of 2012 after reading Paul Gruchow's Grass Roots: The Universe of Home (Milkweed Editions, 1995). I was first introduced to his work growing up in Montevideo, MN, which is where he was from, and turned on to his environmental consciousness. If you are interested in Aldo Leopold and "The Land Ethic," you'll enjoy Gruchow's work. Sadly, Gruchow committed suicide in 2004 and so I never had a chance to meet him -- but writers are used to the feeling, I guess. We walk in prose, talk through poems.
A century ago, in 1914, war erupted across Europe following the assassination of Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand, a conflict that by its end claimed 37 million casualties worldwide. It was four years of fighting that closed the 19th century and set the 20th into motion. Because its worst horrors remained to be seen (Wilfred Owen's poem "Dulce et Decorum est" captures the disillusion well), there was still hope it'd come to a speedy end. Although this small sample is not representative of every published illustration, political cartoon, and comic, it still provides some insight into the nation's feelings of that decisive year. Here we see doubt over the merits of sustaining a standing army (this being 15 years after the Spanish-American War and the nation's first foray into imperialism). We see as well both doubt and optimism for war -- and finally hope for 1915.
I'm happy to announce that my review of Joseph A. Amato's Buoyancies: A Ballast Master's Log (Crossings & Spoon River Poetry Press, 2014) appears in the latest print edition of The Rain Taxi Review of Books. Don't worry: My article's short. (Plus, if you get bored of my writing, you can literally turn the page and read an interview with Beat poet Diane di Prima).
While going through the Robert Bly Papers at the University of Minnesota, I came across two letters I wanted to share. In the past I've posted pieces from young writers like Oscar Wilde, Aldous Huxley, and Hunter S. Thompson, but the following come from two of the state's most-famous contemporaries. The first excerpt is from Garrison Keillor (age 27) and the other from Bill Holm (age 26). Both letters are dated 1969 and written after Bly gained fame for his literary magazine The Fifties (then The Sixties) and first book of poems, Silence in the Snowy Fields (1963). In 1966, Bly co-founded American Writers Against the Vietnam War and through it staged readings on college campuses across the country, which introduced him to many young poets. This kind of literary activism culminated in his winning the National Book Award for his politically-charged The Light Around the Body (1967). It is hard to overstate the influence Bly had on his contemporaries during the decade. Although both Keillor and and Holm later found their own fame for A Prairie Home Companion and The Music of Failure (1985), respectively, these were still decades away. In fact the two would become good friends with Keillor calling Holm, "The sage ... a colleague of Whitman born one hundred years too late."