Alice Notley, Eric Dolphy and Upstairs at Duroc

Saxophonist Eric Dolphy:
the subject of my poem in the latest issue of Upstairs at Duroc

I’ve been reading the latest issue of Upstairs at Duroc. This international journal comes out once a year; this is the 12th issue.

Published in Paris, Upstairs at Duroc is filled with literary works of prose and poetry in English.

I'm about halfway through the issue.

Alice Notley’s work is included, which isn’t so odd, seeing as she lives in Paris.  I knew of Notley from Grave of Light, which collects her writing from 1970-2005. I’ve included some of those poems on my show, “Audio Saucepan.”

The 4-page piece in Upstairs at Duroc begins with the author in conversation with a word. Or no, it begins with a conversation with someone named Marie.

It returns to the idea of the word as person, a thing that can talk, that can ask questions. This is one of the things that I love about poetry, the way it grabs my hand and takes me into the surreal.  Suddenly, I’m in a place where “the word” talks.

That, in itself, is dimensional.  Of course, we all use words to talk, but this word has emotion; it thinks and feels. It talks back.

Alice Notley’s writing makes me certain I’ve walked into a dark tunnel. Even though I don’t know what’s happening, I like it in there. It’s weird, but it feels good. Cool and damp on my skin.

Turns out, this is an excerpt from Notley’s new book, Culture of One, due out next month from Penguin. It’s about the Southwest - my home. I want to read more….

And, by the way, one of my jazz poems is in this issue of Upstairs at Duroc – a piece about jazzman Eric Dolphy.

Betting on an Acceptance

It couldn’t be any harder to bet on a horse or gamble on a stock than it is to submit poems. Even if there’s no exchange of money, there’s a sense of sending out your soul for approval. 

Journal editors ask that we, the submitters, *read* the journal before submitting. Definitely do your homework, but even so, there are tremendous odds against one of your poems being selected.

How often have I chosen, printed, folded and placed five poems I’m sure are my best work in an envelope? How often have I waited months for a positive response, and then received that horrible super-flat envelope (which, I might add, I addressed to myself)?

Rejection is humbling, but if you keep trying, sometimes your horse comes in first, or the stock rises. Just enough times to keep going.

Performance Poetry - Where it Starts

Ouka Leele, one of the photographers in a show called Women & Women 

In March, words will blow around me like a storm. 

Slowly, over the next weeks, I plan to tell you a bit about three performances I have scheduled – all are poetry-based, but each one unique.

One of the events is a collaborative word-response to an exhibit at the National Hispanic Cultural Center in Albuquerque. The exhibit showcases enormous photographs by five female artists. I am working with three women poets to create a group response. 

The first step was personal. A few weeks ago, I stood in front of each photograph and looked at it. I looked into the room of each photograph. When words came to me, I wrote them down. I wrote sloppy descriptions, and I wrote about how each photograph made me feel. I wrote words like “polywog clouds” because that’s what I saw.  

Silk Shirt Metaphor - Part 2

As you can see, I like choices. This is a photo of a few of my artworks. A few! Really.

Let me go back to that statement: “Writing well is like a closetful of silk shirts.” I want something lovely that’s not super-fancy. Something I can put on and take off again. I need to be able to change my mind; that’s the kind of person I am.

I want to be able to like one sort of writing one day, and have an entirely different opinion about what I want to dress myself in the next.

Today, for example, I’m wondering which silk shirt should I wear, Stick with me as I empty out the writing closet. I’m going to hold each thought up and feel it -, by which I mean, I’m going to write about good writing. And at the same time, I’m going to be continually trying to figure it all out.

Audio Saucepan: The Gathering Episode

Thornton Dial's artwork - There's nothing like seing it in person. The sloppiness, the color, the rough edges... 

“Audio Saucepan: The Gathering Episode” airs tomorrow night on KSFR. Every week I give my shows episode titles. Some day we should talk about titles, but I’ll leave that topic for now. I’ve written a lot of titles over the years, and I’ve rewritten a number of them.

Tomorrow’s show includes the poem “Boston Year” by Elizabeth Alexander (from The 100 Best African-American Poems; published by Sourcebooks); an excerpt from the short story “Loot” by Nadine Gordimer (from her book Life Times; published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux) and an a quote from the artist Thornton Dial (from Hard Truths: The Art of Thornton Dial; Prestel).