SPARKS IN THE DARK
Selected Poems by Jacques “thehaitianfirefly” Fleury
2006,

I’ve had the good fortune of knowing “the firefly” for about a year now, featuring him first in my column for the North Cambridge Alewife, “Words & Music”. It was in fact exactly a year ago, March 2005, when we talked about his childhood in Haiti, his mother’s red dress (which almost cost her life to the gangster Ton Ton Macoute) and his profound love for her. Born in Port-au-Prince, Haiti he told me that he came to America when he was 13, but not on an immigrant boat, on American Airlines. And there begins the wondrous “zebra stripes” of a maverick poet with Jacques’ humor, fortitude and transition to a new world. He looks back and he looks forward in his latest release of poems with a strikingly passionate Purple Rain cover. The dedication reads:

“For my dear and relatively sainted mother, who is the most intrinsically beautiful woman I have had the pleasure of knowing and will ever know and who knows me better than anyone else alive today! Thanks for believing in your very own, “Garcon MamMam.’

In his opening piece, The Totally Unfabulous World of a Haitian Firefly, he goes through his coming of age, leaving Haiti behind, with his courageous mother insisting:
SNAP OUT OF IT!….Haiti is behind us now.” And then he writes, “Still I sleep in a clamorous still, in nightmares influenced by subversive ideologies….” Yes the poet’s imagination remains haunted by his roots, the exploding guts of a country called, Haiti.

In the next selection he affirms just who he is, in Creole with line by line English translations: “the haitian fire fly that’s me.” “I grew up taking blood baths, basking in the epoch of oppression.” “I am a Creole poet” “but my nation was occupied by the French.” “But still I am a Creole poet.” “My Caribbean spice rack is stock full of flavored stories…”
From The Haitian Fire Fly Speaks!

And indeed Jacques is full of spice and sparks of language about his experience, the world he sees, the light and darkness in it, those he loves, friends he is inclined to practically worship with words…as in A Goddess Intervenes, for Colleen, the Goddess of Love, which I heard him recite at Squawk just a week ago….

Interestingly, Jacques is so empathic the last few lines remind of me of something Colleen herself might write:

“One day she opened her eyes in horror/to see the moon a reddish color!/to see her world of beauty in fury/crumbling around her like a fallen deity/so then she crumbles too;/ having been made of snow,/ with wrath of the wind broke through her window,/then there she lies like the ashes of winter,/succumbed to the intemperate weather/then I watch her die, beautifully die. From A Goddess Intervenes

Jacques is a rarely blessed talent who blends together a strong historical awareness and sensuality and unusual syntax that is both compelling and enlightening. Sometimes his poems are pitched to an almost Shakespearian crescendo, and then there is the child-like brilliance of a poem like, Krik Krak:

“Krik Krak
I am like an almanac
So use me to count your days
War was here and war did play
Bruised bodies are on their way”

Krik Krak
I am like a tic tac
Sweet smelling breath of storms
We are pulled from our roots feeling forlorn
Fallen over knee deep in crap flowers grow thorns…”

Krik Krak
I say you said what?
Werewolves walk around in sight
Creep back in your mother’s womb in fright
But sooner then later all must come out to fight!”

You say you want a revolution, well read Jacques’ poems. He has his eye on the past and the future and his own yearnings. He has his eye on America and Haiti. He has his heart in love with people who sustain and teach him. And Jacques knows in his abundant soul, how to give back.

NB: Also, you will find Jacques’ column on the Alewife website, http://www.thealewife.com/, currently a tribute to Black History month.

His book is available at his readings and at The Out of the Blue Gallery on Prospect St. in Cambridge. Go and buy it! Check him out!

Lo Galluccio
Ibbetson St. Press

Cambridge Chronicle > Arts & Lifestyle
Poets come for coffee, bagels, and community

By Shanti Sadtler/ CorrespondentThursday,


March 2, 2006 An eclectic community of local poets is sprouting in the basement of a local Finagle A Bagel.

"[I] come out of isolation, to connect, make relationships with other creative people," said IRENE KORONAS, a member of Breaking Bagels with the Bards. "It's brought me back to life again."
Koronas is the group's "word catcher," meaning she records interesting words and phrases during the meetings.
Breaking Bagels with the Bards is a group of professors, professionals, artists and writers bonded by their interest in poetry.
Members attend to exchange information on performance venues, new books and upcoming poetry readings. Through the connections made at Finagle, members, such as MATT ROSENTHAL, have had their work published.
"This is my publishing crowd right here, but it wasn't intentional," he said.
Rosenthal, an Internet advertising sales representative, was unpublished when he joined about six months ago, and now his poetry has appeared in contemporary anthologies.
By 10 a.m., a record 24 people squeeze around four pushed-together tables, taking up about half of the otherwise empty basement. Groups between two and four people chat about their most recent projects, such as a book or a Web site. The table quickly becomes a mess of colorful photocopied fliers, newspapers, business cards, books, coffee cups and water bottles. Co-founder HARRIS GARDNER sells an assortment of poetry books out of a plastic shopping bag.
DOUG HOLDER said he founded the group March 2005 with Gardener because the university-centered Cambridge poetry community was exclusive.
"The poetry world here in Cambridge is very cliquish. You're either in the university, or you're out," Holder said.
Holder's group includes all levels of poets, from professors to the unpublished. There are currently about 32 members, 10 of whom attend regularly, and new members join every week.
"It's getting bigger and bigger every week. We're having to move more tables around," Koronas said.
Breaking Bagels with the Bards is open to all and meets every Saturday at 9 a.m. in the Harvard Square Finagle A Bagel basement.

The Beat Face of God: The Beat Generation Writers As Spirit Gudes: Stephen D. Edington with forward by David Amram. ( Trafford Publishing http://www.trafford.com/) $18.





I remember picking up a copy of "On the Road," by Jack Kerouac at a bookstore in Downtown Crossing, Boston 30 years ago, and being unable to put it down. At the time, I was in my early 20's and struggling to define who I was. This book spoke to me like no other. After devouring it I was like an addict, I had to read everything by Kerouac and the "Beats." "On the Road," spurred me on to more reading, and eventually to an advanced degree in literature, poetry publishing, etc... When I read "On the Road" now at 50 I don't feel the same way I did then, but I can remember that seminal rush. Stephen D. Edington's,( who I met at a reading at the Squawk Coffee House in Harvard Square,) new book: "Beat Face of God..." writes:

"On the Road," is a classic coming-of-age novel-whether one attends college or not--in that it speaks to the universal experience of having to define oneself both in relation to, as well as counter to, one's upbringing, with all that upbringing contains. While the exterior landscape of "On the Road," is the geography of America in the late 1940's, the interior landscape is the soul of Sal Paradise as he struggles with the question we all encounter in our coming-of-age years: Who am I?"

Edington, a Unitarian minister in Nashua, New Hampshire, has written a book about the spirituality of Beat writers, and theorizes that the Beat movement may have been be a religious one. Edington defines religion as a reaction against that fact that we live with the knowledge of our own death. Religion tries to bring some meaning to life in light of this. Edington's thesis is that the Beats were the embodiment of this quest for meaning.

Edington provides a credible argument for this, even if at times he stretches a little. He examines the spiritual journey of many of the Beat generation writers such as: Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Diane di Prima, Allen Ginsberg, etc... Kerouac wanted to see the "face of God," hence the title. He was asked why he wrote "On the Road," he replied "Because we are all going to die." And it seems that Beats, whether it was William Burroughs attempting to exorcise his "ugly spirit," Neal Cassady's perpetual manic motion across the country to stay "outside of time," or Diane di Prima's attempts to find transcendence in a 1950's world that confined women to gilded cages, were all in hot pursuit of meaning.

On the subject of "Beat Woman," Edington provides an excellent quote from the poet Gregory Corso. Corso had a keen insight as to why women were marginalized in the movement:

"There were women, they were there, I knew them, their families put them in institutions, they were given electric shock. In the 50's if you were a male you could rebel, but if you were female your families had you locked up..."

There is no paucity of books about the Beats, but Edington brings a fresh and fascinating perspective into view with this fine collection of essays.

Doug Holder/ Ibbetson Update/ March 2006/Somerville, Mass.

Robert Pinsky Reaches New Operatic Heights


Some years ago a letter I wrote about the poet Robert Lowell, and his poem “Waking In The Blue,” was published in the first edition of “America’s Favorite Poems,” that the former poet-laureate of the United States Robert Pinsky edited. So my friend poet Harris Gardner and I jumped at the chance to attend a lecture and private reception at the “MIT Media Lab,” that we were invited to. I have always admired Pinsky for his “Favorite Poem Project,” that has produced anthologies of selected poetry and letters from ordinary, and for the most part non-poet Americans. Pinsky was going to talk about his ambitious, on-going project; as well as his work with Tod Machover of the Media Lab that involved a collaboration on an opera titled: “Death and the Powers: A Robot Pageant.”

The opera, still in development, has robots as its main characters that are in the midst of an enigmatic transformation. Pinsky said he is not that well-versed in contemporary opera, but he is excited about the project. He feels “liberated” working on the libretto, with both rhyme and language.

Pinsky’s eyes took on a new light when he discussed his “Favorite Poem Project.” Pinsky wanted to collect poems that “real” Americans were willing to read and loved. When he showed a video of Americans reading from their favorite poems, (A DVD is included with the latest anthology) his philosophy of bodies and breath as the essential artistic components of poetry took on new meaning. There were animated readings of favorite poems by children—to a construction worker from Quincy, Mass. reciting “Song of Myself,” by Walt Whitman.

Pinsky feels that often when academics read great poems they don’t really hear the poem. They drone on and on during their reading of the poem and the excitement is lost. The Americans who read their poems made it clear that this genre of expression is still alive and kicking.

MIT English professor and Conrad scholar, David Thorburn, an old friend of Pinsky’s from Stanford University, exchanged anecdotes about the old days with the celebrated poet much to the delight of the audience. Thorburn opined that Pinsky’s poetry has changed over the years from conversational to more visionary work. Pinsky replied that he makes no conscious decision to be more visionary in his work; it is just an organic process in his writing.

Pinsky also talked about his new book: “The Life of David,” an account of the biblical poet-king. Pinsky said he was fascinated by David because he was a walking contradiction. He was in Pinsky’s words, “… a great killer and poet, the quintessential hero, and a consummate politician.”

During the Q and A session Pinsky talked about the inaccessible quality of contemporary poetry. He said often young poets don’t want to appear naïve and the inaccessible style protects them from this. Pinsky told the young poets in the audience that they must risk seeming stupid in their work. They must take risks to be authentic.

After the lecture there was a reception at the MIT Stata Center where Pinsky held court to a flock of admirers. He is an affable, approachable man, not to mention a scholar and poet; the perfect person for bringing poetry back home to the ‘people” where it belongs.

Doug Holder. Feb. 2006.

Interview with poet Sarah Hannah: A Poet within “Longing Distance”

Sarah Hannah is an educator, a poet with a PhD from Columbia University, and a sometimes rock musician. Her poems have appeared in “Barrow Street,” “Parnassus,” “Gulf Coast,” “Crab Orchard Review,” and others. Her original manuscript which became her first poetry collection “Longing Distance,” was a semi-finalist for the “Yale Younger Poets Prize,” in 2002. Anne Dillard describes her collection as: “…an extremely moving work. I’m struck by her intelligence of emotion and her unmistakable voice…Sarah Hannah is a true original.” She currently resides with her husband in Cambridge and teaches at Emerson College in Boston. She was a guest on my Somerville Community Access TV show “Poet to Poet/Writer to Writer.”

Doug Holder: Can you tell us about the “Yale Younger Poets Prize” which “Longing Distance,” was a semi-finalist for?

Sarah Hannah: That was a sort of near miss. That was in 2002. That was the year Tupelo Press accepted my book. I found out I was a runner up by phoning the editor, (not the judge) who was W.S. Merwin. The editor told me he remembered the book, and it was a semi-finalist, and it was a strong book.

Doug Holder: A lot of folks claim a PhD can ruin a poet. You learn how to write academic papers, but you forget how to write poetry. This does not seem to be the case with you.

Sarah Hannah: It ruined me in the sense that while I was writing my dissertation, I felt that I didn’t have time to write poetry. But I think the PhD made me a better poet. It forced me to really study poetry deeply. You have to grapple with ideas that are foreign to you. You read more than just contemporary poets. You learn to become a better writer.

Some people become sidetracked. They go into a PhD program and they emerge as critics not poets. There are more people around than you think that are poets and scholars.

Doug Holder: How did you come up with the title for your collection “Longing Distance?”

Sarah Hannah: I was writing a series of sonnets about a messed up love affair. You know “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” an all those clichés. So I came up with a line while I was in the country watching my husband scale a rock. I thought of the line: “I keep you at longing distance.” I thought it was just going to be another sonnet in the sequence. I wrote the sonnet, but then wound up expunging it from the book. I kept “Longing Distance,’ as the title.

Doug Holder: From our email exchanges I get the impression you haven’t had an easy life.

Sarah Hannah: I lived a hardscrabble life. I’ve seen life disintegrate . I wanted to put back my experiences in more metaphysical or formal terms.

I grew up in Newton, Mass., in the Waban section. A lot of neurosis going on there. I would say seven out of my eight high school friends were bulimic. I was not. My mother was hospitalized at the same “summer hotel” Anne Sexton visited.

Doug Holder: How does your teaching at Emerson College fit with your poetry?

Sarah Hannah: It’s fitting beautifully because I am teaching poetry, as opposed to composition. I am teaching traditional form to graduate and undergraduate students. I teach a hybrid literature and writing course.

Doug Holder: Why did you move from the bright lights and big city of New York to the more provincial environs of Boston?

Sarah Hannah: I am a lover of the underdog. Boston is the underdog to New York. I felt I had to come back. You know: “My end is my beginning, my beginning my end.” I have always missed Boston. I am a loyal person that way. My husband and I purchased a house in Cambridge. It’s right in the Central Square area. It’s a very diverse city. I often write at the ‘1369” Coffee Shop or ‘Grendel’s Den,” in Harvard Square. I feel rooted here.

Doug Holder: How does the lit scene here compare to the “Big Apple?”

Sarah Hannah: There are a lot of readings here like N.Y. I lived in N.Y. for 17 years. It took me 8 years to get “out” there. It seems much faster out here. I have a book though, that makes a difference. I was worried. It took a long time for me to establish myself in New York City. But I didn’t loose my contacts because I maintained my connection to the journal “Barrow Street,” and now I am an editor there.”


Eclipse

Every so often I am dilated; the pupilsSwallow everything—a catchall soup,Two cauldrons, stubborn in the bald glare
Of bathroom light. They are hunting sleep—The sea grass, the blue cot rocking;In sleep I am a Spanish dancer,
Awaiting my cue at the velvet curtain,Now and then groping for the sash,Or on horseback, abducted, thumping
Through pampas. I sleep too much;I curl in at midday, sheepish,In strange rooms. Clouds are hurrying by—
The walls, a wash of white; still my eyesAre mazing through their dark gardens,The great lamp shut, the crescents duplicating.
It is only a temporary state of affairs.The sun boils behind the moon.

Sarah Hannah will be reading at the Newton Free Library Poetry Series March 14 7PM. 330 Homer St. Newton Centre, Mass.

I have had the pleasure to have been published and to have read for Anne Hudson, and her online magazine FACETS. This magazine is based at MIT, and publishes some poetry and fiction. Read more below about FACETS:





CONTENTS
CONTRIBUTORS
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
NEWS ABOUT FACETS WRITERS
HOW YOU CAN SUPPORT
WRITERS' RESOURCES
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
ABOUT THE TITLE
SEARCH SITE
PAST ISSUES

Facets
P. O. Box 380915Cambridge, MA 02238facetsmagazine@aol.com http://facets-magazine.com





On October 13, 2005, Facets celebrated five years of publication with its first reading. The event was sponsored by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s Artists Behind the Desk and held at MIT’s Stata Center in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The Center is where MIT’s Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory is located; somehow the whimsical building that is home to computer science seemed a fitting setting for an internet-based literary magazine’s first public event. Eight past Facets contributors from the Boston area read from their work to a rapt audience (Kitty Beer, Maura Greene, Kevin Harvey, Doug Holder, Paul Hostovsky, Karyn Crispo Jones, David Surette, and Tom Sheehan). The poems and stories were artful and relatable, and audience members proclaimed the evening “exhilarating” and “inspirational to say the least.” Honoring all the superb and original work we published in 2005, Facets made six nominations for the Pushcart Prize/The Best of the Small Press: “Silvia and Alfredo,” short story by Maura Greene (April 2005)“In Kansas:,” short story by Aaron Hellem (October 2005)“Road Work,” memoir of Iraq war by Jack Lewis (October 2005)“’Shut Up,’ He Explained,” prose poem by Susan Rawlins (October 2005)“Mercies Found in Light,” poem by Tom F. Sheehan (October 2005)“Cicadas,” poem by Donna Spector (October 2005) As we launch our sixth year, we publish work by one of the editors for the first time, William Routhier’s haunting story, “The Writing Hand.” From the beginning Facets has included graphics. In this issue, we introduce the layered, provocative images of multimedia artist, Ilene Segalove (see “Contents” for links to her images in this issue). One of our regular features is “Writers’ Resources,” where we provide information about writing books, writing workshops, writing advice, writing prizes, literary links, and other things we run across of interest to writers. The recommendation of a writing book comes this time from Kathleen Olesky, a Boston-area writer and workshop leader who uses the methods described in Writing Alone and With Others by Pat Schneider.
Thank you for reading Facets. We hope you enjoy it, visit the site again, and share the link with friends.

Anne M. HudsonPoetry Editor
William RouthierFiction Editor
February 23, 2006

14,600 Moons Ago Once Upon A Time: Written and Lived By Annmarie L. Boudreau. Doug Holder. annmarieboudreau@hotmail.com No. Price.

Somerville school teacher and poet Annmarie L. Boudreau writes in her introduction to her new poetry collection: “14,600 Moons Ago Once Upon A Time…”: “Let me introduce myself. I am a woman, who at 56 is feeling comfortable finally in her size six Dr. Martens. My lessons have all come from entwining passages as a daughter, woman, wife, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, cousin, friend, teacher, and soul mate. This collection is a reflection of all that I was before emerging to everything I am.” And indeed the poet’s life, which like ours, is marked by happiness and despair. Boudreau who has so far survived breast and skin cancer writes inspite of her afflictions not because of them.

Before each poem in the book is an essay that introduces the reader to different phases of her life. And since she has worn many hats, the poems are a varied bunch. Here is a poem about the “sounds of silence,” that is a favorite of her elementary school charges titled: “Awkward Silence:” “I don’t like awkward silence/ imminent silent void, / cliff hanging inside limbo, / suffocating anticipation, dwelling/ exaggerated soundless noise/
Piercing through my ears.”

And here is an endearing portrait of her grandmother when the poet was playing the role of a grandchild: “Long row of fresh ravioli dough diligently stretched across her white laced sheets placed on her bed/ Angelic ballets flowing from her soul and passing through her lips as she sings her favorite operatic songs.”

There are poems about divorce, her children, and her emergent feminism, to touch on a few. I think many women, and even us men from Mars, can take much from this first collection of poetry by Annmarie Boudreau.

Doug Holder /Ibbetson Update/ Feb. 2006

Somerville Poet Gloria Mindock: Pressing the Cervena Barva Press


Somerville, Mass. publisher and poet Gloria Mindock and I met in the basement of “Finagle-a-Bagel” in Harvard Square one Saturday morning. We were part of a group of animated “Bagel Bards” that meets there every weekend to break bread, or in this case bagels, and to dish the dirt about poetry and the “scene.” I had the chance to speak privately with Mindock after the meeting. I wanted to find out what makes this Somerville small press figure tick.


Mindock’s experience in small press publishing goes way back to 1984 when she was co-editor of the “Boston Literary Review,” that was founded in Somerville. The magazine was based on Hawthorne St. in West Somerville to be exact. It lasted until 1994. The magazine published such poets as: Catherine Sassanov, Carl Phillips, Marc Fleckenstein and others.

Mindock is an eclectic artist, and was also involved in a theatre company in Somerville, and many other projects over the years. However she describes herself as primarily a poet. Mindock, whose poetry collection “Oh Angel,” was recently released by a small press, told me: “ I am more of a poet. I studied theatre, but I feel I can express myself more clearly as a poet.” Mindock explained that she writes about death, politics and the way: “man destroys man, and the atrocities governments commit for power, greed and money…


Many poets have inspired Mindock. She cites Neruda as the strongest influence on her work.

Mindock was out of the publishing game for awhile, but now has come back full force with the” Cervena Barva Press,” which means the “Red,” press in Czech. Mindock is fascinated by Eastern Europe, and especially Prague, hence the name.

The press, founded in her Somerville home on Highland Ave., with her partner Bill, produces full-length poetry books and chapbooks, and now has a poetry postcard series, that combines poetry and art, and has published such poets as: Ed Cates, Simon Perchick, Barry Casselman, Roberta Swann and others.

Mindock funds her press from her own money. She wants full control, to be her “own woman,” as she describes it. She has learned over the years to be more assertive, and not to take the “crap” the world often throws at you.

Mindock accepts poetry that she likes without regard to poets’ past publishing history, degrees, etc… She is open to submissions, and is dedicated to providing a venue for emerging poets as well as established ones.

Mindock along with “sunny outside,” “Ibbetson Street,” and other presses contribute to the rich literary milieu we have in the “Ville.
Doug Holder/ Ibbetson Update/ Somerville, Mass./ Feb. 2006

Reviews of Ibbetson Street 18, Sanctus! Sanctus! Sanctus! and Poem for the Little Book by The Blindman's Rainbow : A Journal of Poetry and Art.



Ibbetson 18
http://bmrpoetry.com/
Review by Melody Sherosky

"I greatly enjoyed the cover art (both front and back) done by Gene Smith." "The poetry is great. I enjoyed the two-page poem," The Cat Who Could Open Doors ( for Jeremiah)," by Marc Goldfinger, "Self-Portrait"by Gale L. Roby, and "Lingering" by Ann Murphy "Fletcher." "I found that Lyln Clague's discussion of the personal in poetry took center stage in this issue. The essay is titled "Poetry and the Larger Public," and I was intrigued by Clague's views on where the individual is in his own writing." You can purchase an issue of Ibbetson Street for 5 bucks Ibbetson Street 25 School St. Somerville, Mass. http://ibbetsonpress.com/


Poem for the Little Book by Tomas O'Leary "...a very solid...poetry form peeks through..." $2 Ibbetson Street Press

Sanctus! Sanctus! Sanctus! by Ann Carhart "This is a lovely collection of mostly relationship poetry...with only a few exceptions, work well individually." $6 Ibbetson Street Press


Doug Holderhttp://www.ibbetsonpress.com/

OH Angel. Gloria Mindock. ( U SOKU STAMPA, Springfield, VA)


Gloria Mindock, Somerville poet, writer, and founder of the “Cervena Barva Press” http://www.cervenabarvapress.com has a new collection of poetry out titled: “Oh Angel.” Mindock writes: “ Inspiration for these poems come from a friend who lives in Central America. She prays to a different angel for every situation she encounters.” The angel in this collection doesn’t so much protect or even talk with the poet, but acts as a conduit for Mindock to think out loud. Mindock, wrote me in an email that she has an interest in death, and she feels, at least in this country, it is feared and pushed into the background. In her poem “Bridge,” Mindock talks with the angel about our inevitable decline:


“The angels are ripping our
bodies apart, they’re butchering corpses.
Look, we can’t conceal that our flesh is dying.
Insects multiply in our blood.
And if this isn’t enough, we can’t
talk about it.
Hands are shaky. We are afraid of
breaking down, becoming weak, and being
killed by pity.
Silence is better.
A slight wound touches us.
We can nourish ourselves with this.”


In Vacationing Angel” the poet addresses an absent angel that she depends on for “pockets of air so/we can embrace this slaughter.”


Our bones and skin are static--
trashed
In fact, if you haven’t had plenty of dreams, you
will drop off this planet
One can’t survive on knowledge.
Hollow and silent, we are waiting
to die with a few pauses in-between
Nevertheless, we keep going….
Some years ago I published a poetry collection by Hugh Fox “Angel of Death.” Angels, I found, can be an excellent conceit for a poem, as long as they don’t become harp-playing ciphers. Mindock’s angel is a fount for profound ontological inquiry.


Doug Holder/ Ibbetson Update/ Feb. 2006/Somerville, Mass.

Review by Carolyn Gregory

Doug Holder’s Wrestling With My Father, Yellow Pepper Press, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, 2005

In the Boston small press scene, Doug Holder is a major mover and shaker. Founder of the Ibbetson Street Press located in Somerville, Massachusetts, Doug and a rotating group of editors have published the Ibbetson Street journal twice a year for a number of years. Additionally, Doug has organized a number of local poetry venues in Newton, Somerville and Cambridge. He is on the editorial board of the Wilderness Literary Review, edits the poetry page of the Somerville News, and is the Boston editor of the national poetry journal, Poesy. His efforts have helped expand the Boston poetry scene, both locally and nationally, and he has managed to accomplish all of this at the same time as he has worked for many years full-time at a psychiatric hospital.

Doug Holder’s new collection, Wrestling With My Father, is a series of twenty five poems dedicated to the memory of his father, Lawrence J. Holder. The collection holds together cohesively as a unit through its consistent narrative point of view and emotional location. Holder anchors these poems in the place of his childhood, growing up in New York City and Jewish, poignantly suggesting the close and sometimes difficult bond between his father and himself. All the poems consequently are personal and sustained through a rich brocade of landscape. He writes about weekends spent as a family, driving along a bridge to the Bronx or watching matriarchs kvetching amongst themselves in Yiddish:

“Rows/of ancient Jewish mothers/like ancient crustaceans/packed on lawn chairs/claws out/pinch at the peach fuzz/of my flushed cheeks.” (Wallace Avenue, Bronx, 1965)

Stylistically, these poems use short line breaks and are vivid with physical details, helping the reader quickly enter the poet’s emotional territory. It is easy here to visualize the poet’s family with their blue eyes, strong opinions, and hard work ethic, the enjoyment of pleasures like shared knishes:

“And my brother and I/broke through the brittle yellow casing/of a meat knish/as if we were/prospecting gold diggers.” (At Benson’s Deli With Dad)

There is a range of emotions in this collection, varying from the elegiac and meditative (Morning Gulls at Day Break) to the tongue in cheek and somewhat sarcastic tone of Father Knows Best, Mother Does the Rest. Holder successfully invokes physical objects to sharpen his focus, viewing his father’s fedora, coat of arms, navy blazer, wing-tipped shoes. Some of the best writing in this volume occurs when the poet sees the reflection of his father in himself as a middle aged man:

“Do I find myself/praying over/The New York Times/like a scholar/over a sacred text?”
(A Thought On Father’s Day)

As a writer of the same generation as Doug Holder, I admire his ability to re-create growing up in the 1950’s and in New York City. My father, too, was a native New Yorker born in Brooklyn though of an earlier vintage than Doug’s dad, nonetheless making it easy for me as a critical reader to enter poems tracing his father’s workday in Manhattan and his emotional response to World War II and in connecting with the stolid paternal qualities Holder suggests so well in lines like the following (from the poem, Ladies and Gentlemen, Take My Advice, Pull Down Your Pants and Slide on the Ice):

“And even now/I feel the lines on his face –/I hold his hand/and we begin to trace.”

This is a strong collection written by a seasoned writer, very much deserving attention. It comes from a keenly observed world and contains emotional authenticity. I highly recommend it to all readers.

--Carolyn Gregory

Carolyn Gregory lives in Boston and has been working in hospital research for twenty years. her poems and classical music and photography reviews have appeared in the following: American Poetry Review, Seattle Review, Bellowing Ark, Slant, South Florida Poetry Review, Ibbetson Street. she has published two chapbooks and was featured in an award winning anthology (For Lovers and Other Losses). her second book, Open Letters, will be published in 2005. her hobbies include hiking, swimming, travel and collecting antique pins

Review of "Baby Beat Generation & The 2nd San Francisco Revolution"


Find Web Home of Charles P. Ries at http://www.literati.net/Ries/

___________________________________________________________

Baby Beat Generation & The 2nd San Francisco Renaissance
Publisher - La Main Courante // France
Editor and Translator - Mathias de Breyne
272 pages / $20
ISBN: 2-913919-24-3

Order via:
Small Press Distribution
1341 Seventh Street
Berkeley, CA 94710-1409
510-524-1668
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Review By: Charles P. Ries

Word Count: 1,783 (Word count does not include header, bio or addendum)

If you want to taste the Beat Poets and sample the writers who followed them, Baby Beat Generation & The 2nd San Francisco Renaissance is about as good as it will get. The work in this collection is of high quality. I’m not sure why this surprised me. I have read many anthologies and usually come away with a 50% sense of satisfaction, but not this time so I asked Thomas Rain Crowe whose work is featured in the collection and whose preface helped to established historic context. He told me, “Looking back, now I think the poetry that came out of the 2nd San Francisco renaissance is still some of the best, and most interesting, poetry of the last thirty years. These were talented, dedicated, and extremely literate poets, some of whom were 'well educated', but all of whom were very well read and had been writing for quite a long time, even though many of us were only in our mid-late twenties. This was a very diverse group of poets, who wrote in uniquely different styles from one another and from their beat friends and mentors.” The book includes poems by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gary Snyder, Jack Micheline, Jack Hirschman, Harold Norse, Diane Di Prima, Nanos Valaoritis, Michael McClure, Bob Kaufman and David Meltzer on the beat side, and poetry by Thomas Rain Crowe, Ken Wainio, Neeli Cherkovski, David Moe, Janice Blue, Paul Wear, Luck Breit, Kaye McDonough, Philip Daughtry, Kristen Wetterhahn, Jerry Estrin, and Roderick Iverson, as well as pictures and an attached CD which includes readings by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Diane Di Prima, Bob Kaufman, Jack Hirschman, Jack Micheline, Thomas Rain Crowe, Michael Lorraine, Cole Swenson and Ken Wainio.
I sensed Crowe’s significant presence in this publication and asked if he was the driving force behind it and how the hell did a French Press become the publisher for an anthology focused on American poets? He told me, “While it's true that I was the main contact and the supplier of much of the raw material that made its way into the anthology, this isn't a "Thomas Rain Crowe" production. Mathias de Breyne was the catalyst and initiator of the project. This anthology was his idea. He contacted me and asked for material--which he then chose from and translated into French. He was familiar with the publisher of La Main Courante, Pierre Courtaud, and it was Mathias de Breyne who contacted Monsieur Courtaud and proposed the idea of such an anthology. M. Courtaud's press, La Main Courante is primarily a press that publishes contemporary French poets. It's a relatively small literary press, and so this project was the largest project that he had undertaken to date. I did write a preface for the book, since M.de Breyne wanted something that would allow readers to get a glimpse into the whole scene in San Francisco during the 70s. And I did assist with problem areas of the translations. But this book was generated in France by a French poet and a French publisher--which is ironic in one sense and appropriate in another.”
All the content in this collection appears in English and in French. As I counted up the contributors to the anthology I totaled 29 men and 7 women. So where were the women? It was the 70’s and feminism was coming of age, yet an anthology focused on the 70’s features mainly male poets. I asked Kaye McDonough whose work is featured in this collection to comment on the state of women’s poetry in the 70’s, “I think the North Beach lifestyle itself was hard on women. You had to be able to live poor and like it -- handle yourself in a bar, walk alone on the street at any hour, and rely on no one. You had to take care that you weren't an alcohol or drug casualty -- and that you could keep up with all those poets and what they read, and they read plenty. You had to be able to read your poetry to rooms full of mostly men who were not shy about giving you feedback. The womanizing was a definite minus. Where I came from, women did not go about unescorted at night, let alone into a bar, so North Beach wasn’t exactly a place to settle down and start a family-- I'm not sure I knew what in the heck I was after – alcohol certainly played a role. I think I wanted to live like a man – a man who was a poet.” (An extended quote from Kaye McDonough can be found at the conclusion of this review.) This excerpt from her poem, “Talk To Robert Creely About It” is telling, “Breast are your bonbons / You suck a lemon fondant / spit out a chocolate-covered cherry / You try on vaginas like finger rings / The pearl cluster is too loose perhaps / the gold band too tight / You collect hearts like paintings / They are nailed to your walls / Skulls ring your house / They are the ivory necklace / fallen from the throat of your latest lady // Women lie around you like mirrors / You pick up one, then another / comb your hair, adjust your features in their glass / Do you see, you grow thin / from wanting some love on your bones?” (Beatitude #24, 1975)
I wanted to hear a male’s take on this gender imbalance and asked Thomas Rain Crowe if he would comment. “No one was counting in those days. There were a lot of women writing and involved in the 70s scene. Not all of whom got into the anthology, just as not all of the male writers in the bay area got into the book. It always felt like there was an equal balance of men and women (masculine and feminine energy) involved in everything we did. There certainly was a very strong feminine voice in North Beach and in the issues of Beatitude during those years. As I say, who was counting? If you look at the posters for Beatitude events and at the issues of Beatitude during those years, you'll see that there were always a healthy, if not equal, number of women represented. It didn't feel like anyone was fighting for position, etc. those that were on the scene and who wanted to take part publicly were the ones that ended up on the reading posters and in the many bay area publications during those years.” I am sure the answer lies somewhere between McDonough and Crowe’s perception of the time, but it presented an interesting back story and sent my mind rambling to today’s small press scene where I often sense a lack of female poets and editors, yet realizing women write more poetry. So why aren’t they publishing? Why aren’t they fighting for an audience?
I needed to find out about Beatitude. The small press magazine started in the 1950’s and picked up in the 1970’s which became the glue for these new post-beat poets. Again here is Thomas Rain Crowe, “Beatitude was the glue as you put it, for our group, and also for this anthology. Since Beatitude was at the center, the core, of the 70s renaissance, and a catalyst for the renaissance, the editor and publisher of Baby Beat Generation & The 2nd San Francisco Renaissance decided that this anthology would hinge on the Beatitude poets--since we were in closest proximity to the Beats and were working and playing with them constantly during those years, and since Beatitude was the first beat publication during the 1950s. It was us babies that resurrected the magazine. The publisher and editor wanted to cite and establish a viable tradition, with the passing down of the Beat heritage and the Beat "torch" as it were, to the next generation. This book establishes that tradition and documents the history of this "rite of passage." We published usually 500 copies of each issue of Beatitude. It was done in the mimeograph format of the former 50s Beatitude, and was distributed to bookstores all over the bay area, as well as to select bookstores all over the country--including LA, the Northwest Coast, Chicago, New York, Canada, and England. I was in charge of the distribution during those years, and the emphasis was not to make money, but to get the magazine out and as far-reaching as possible. We usually sold enough copies to pay for the next issue. But mainly is was about the poetry and showing others in the states and in other countries what we were doing. The magazine came out as often as was possible. There was no concrete publication schedule, as there is in most literary journals these days. In other words, it wasn't biannual, quarterly, etc. since we used a rotating editorship policy; it came out as quickly as each different editor could accrue text and get it through production.”

“Finally, I asked Crowe to tell me what he viewed as the key style and content distinctives between the Beats and Baby Beats? “While there would be some inevitable similarities, there are also some very distinct differences between us (the baby beats) and the beats. I think that, in general, our writing is much more imaginative and experimental--reflecting the values and cultural politics of the 1960s. I also think that the general oeuvre of the Baby Beats has a much wider arc. Our major influences tend to be more international--since there were more translations of foreign poets available in the 60s and 70s than there had been in the 40s and 50s. Also, we were more politically active, I think, than the beats. Our generation had a history of taking the issues of the time to the streets. We continued that during the 70s in San Francisco, and afterwards. Much of what we did, publicly, was usually for some cultural or political cause outside of the purely literary. I also think that we tended, and still tend, to be more inclusive. Inclusive of women. Inclusive of foreigners, inclusive of different literary styles and persuasions, inclusive of class and race, etc.”

As a reader of poetry, I can often say, I enjoyed that, but not as often say, I enjoyed that and I learned a lot along the way. This is a great collection for many reasons and on many levels. The poetry is outstanding, the bio’s, photos, preface and CD provide wonderful historic context. It also made me reflect on women’s role in poetry in the 1950-1970’s in a wider framework. $20 plus shipping is not too much to pay for this very good, very enlightening read.

“ruined machine”. John Sweet (with photograph by Kimberly Tentor) (sunnyoutside press. Somerville, Massachusetts 02144) www.sunnyoutside.com $2


John Sweet’s “ruined machine” is one of the rarely accurate accounts of what can become of a creation forged in a world of conflict.

The train intended to transport people to a desired destination now carrying people to war, carrying people to their death. While this poem echoes with Holocaust overtones, to say that this is all the poem depicts would do a great injustice to the poem.

Sweet writes, “the train wakes the baby / but not the man / sleeping on the tracks / would you give him a name? / a history?”

To give the man a name would be to forget the other people not seen on the tracks. To give the man a history would neglect the present and future as well as the repetition of history. When is comes to death and warfare, history does repeat itself.

This poem would be relevant during any time in history or in the future. This broadside should be hung on the wall to remind us of our history in the hope that we may change the future in some small way.


Sean M. Teaford / Ibbetson Update

Ralph Hasselmann,Jr. the founder of http://lucidmoonpoetry.com/ passed away. Ralph's "Lucid Moon Magazine," was one of the first magazines I published my poetry in. If you can belive it, he put out a montly magazine at his own expense that was 330 + pages. Later he went online. About 3 years ago Ralph was in a horrible car accident that left him a quadriplegic. Ralph was a classic small press character. He was constantly writing reviews, poetry, and kibbitzing with all the players in our literary subculture. Many a poet was introduced to the likes of Ed Galing,Joyce Metzger, Lyn Lifshin, Hugh Fox and a host of others through his magazine and website. He had a large network of friends in the small press, and published many a poet for the first time. His spirit, his childlike enthusiasm, will be sorely missed...

Here is a letter from his parents:

It is with sadness that Kathy and I inform you that Ralph Jr. passed away today at age 40. preliminary indications are cardiac arrest. His funeral service is Friday 2/3 from 7 to 9 pm at St.Stephens Orthodox Church, 609 Lane Ave, South Plainfield, NJ 07080. An Orthodox church service will be held Saturday, at the same location at 9:30AM. A burial will follow at Hollywood Memorial Cemetery, Stuyvesant Avenue, Union, NJ at about 11:30 AM.

Inside The Outside: An Anthology of Avant-Garde American Poets. ( Presa Press PO BOX 792 Rockford, MI 49341) Editor: Roseanne Ritzema. Contributing Editors: Hugh Fox, Eric Greinke, and Harry Smith. http://presapress.com/ $29.95

I just received my contributor’s copy of “Inside the Outside…” from the folks at the Presa Press. Roseanne Ritzema, the editor of this collection of avant-garde poets writes in her introduction:

“Every years or so, an anthology is produced which marks an epoch. “The New American Poetry,” (ed. Donald Allen) appeared in 1960. The poets gathered in this volume represent the major schools of the American literary avant-garde as it has developed over the past 50 years…

If a poetry reader seeks the avant-garde, he will have difficulty finding it on bookstore shelves, which are filled with the old boys of the upper class New England literary mafia, imitators of their parents’ generation of post-war poets... The establishment turns a cold shoulder toward the children of Whitman, Dickinson, and Poe, but the joke is on them….

This volume brings together 13 major poets of the American small press scene, each representing an important branch of the avant-garde as it has developed over the past 50 years. In most cases, the poems were selected by the poets themselves.”

I am thrilled to be included in this anthology of poets I’ve heard about and read for many years. The book includes many legendary small press poets, many of whom founded their own small presses, and magazines. On these pages you will find the poetry of Richard Morris, Lyn Lifshin, A.D. Winans, Lynne Savitt, Richard Kostelantz, Hugh Fox, and others…

Each poet has a section, and each section has a sort of description of their work. For instance in the Hugh Fox section it reads: “It achieves universality through the representation of personal experiences combined with public/cultural images to present the poet as an everyman…” And in the poem “from Eternity,” this description is very apt:

….the pigeons/sailing off the top of/ the red brick warehouse/ in the oblique almost-winter/ late afternoon sun, white/ ceramic tile, green-painted/ steel copper cornices and/
balustrades, one apartment/ house with the west side/ curved all the way down,/probably living rooms, Margaret 25, Rebecca 3/months, Bernadette 49. Chris/
16, me 66, the nineteenth, twentieth and twenty-first/ centuries closing in/ around me.”

With Harry Smith the description reads: “…He believes that poets have the primary responsibility for the description of history.” And in “Me, the People,” Smith tackles the starving masses yearning to breathe free:

“Me the people had enough. Out of the gorge of city
This glittering Bicentennial I come,
Fat&discontent after my feasty Christmastide,
down to dark, stilled docks trimmed with Yule electric glit
at grayday unseen sundown and watch the steel
dusk deepening across my home harbor
most fabulous and most dreamed—

My lady of liberty
Seen everywhere, beckoning…

And Lynne Savitt: “Uses a stream-of-consciousness approach combined with run-on lines to evoke innerpersonal &interpersonal relationships. And here is a signature Savitt piece, hot and to the point like a red poker:

Writing

my friend Leo says
it’s okay to get
old & fat
to be remembered
as a blonde
dream carrying a rose
a pink velvet
ass bent over
a car fender
a warm mouth
wet as the tropics
all you need
to write, he says,
is the memory
he continues through
the phone wire
as you put yr
fingers under
the elastic of my
mauve lace panties
memory blazes
poems poems poems


Go to http://www.presapress.com/ for this and many other fine books.

Doug Holder/ Ibbetson Update

Re Verse: Essays On Poetry and Poets. David R. Slavitt (Northwestern University Press Evanston, Illinois 60208-4170) $25

I am a sucker for anecdotes. And poet, translator, educator, David Slavitt knows how to tell a story. I met him when he was running for state representative against Tim Toomey. Of course Slavitt was trounced, but I found him a brilliant, charming, and a loquacious character.And since I am an old English major I was glad to get this collection of essays by Slavitt, “Re Verse: Essays on Poetry and Poets.” From looking at the title I was afraid the book would be dry as a spinster on Saturday night, but I was proven wrong. Slavitt offers up a very amusing and colorful memoir of poets he knew during his undergraduate years at Yale (in the 1950’s), and during his long career as a writer. In his essay: “Harold Bloom and the Decline of Civility,” Slavitt recounts the time when as a student at Yale, he met the caustic, young critic Harold Bloom, when Bloom was a mere teaching assistant. Slavitt remembers that Bloom was wearing “a deplorable tie,” and he asked Bloom what he was working on:

“Shelley.” he barked.

Slavitt informs the reader: “I behaved badly, I’m afraid. He was the most un-Shelleyan looking guy I had ever seen in my life. Curly Howard would have been a likelier enthusiast of the “Epipsychidion.” I laughed aloud, I am ashamed to say. Bloom looked hurt—he had the soulful eyes of a basset hound and they still have a baleful look to them.”

Slavitt was also a student of Robert Penn Warren. Even in those days Slavitt had a vast amount of chutzpah. He greatly admired Warren, but he panned his book, “Band of Angels,”
in the Yale student newspaper. He then had the temerity to ask Warren for his inscription in Slavitt’s copy of the book! And by George…he got it!

There are also some delicious accounts of a frosty Robert Frost, especially the time he trashed the poet Stephen Spender who was in the audience during Frost’s reading at Yale.

Slavitt is an engaging writer, and the book will be of interest to scholars and the less- studied of us, like your humble reviewer.

Doug Holder/Ibbetson Update/Jan 2006

Codes Precepts Biases and Taboos. Poems 1973-1993. Lawrence Joseph. ( 19 Union Square West N.Y. 1003) $16.

I was introduced to the poetry of Lawrence Joseph by my friend and poet Lo Galluccio. Joseph is a professor of Law at St. John’s University and also teaches Creative Writing at Princeton University. Joseph reminds me of a Lebanese Edward Hopper especially with his moody cityscapes of his native Detroit. The poems unfold detailed, moody, melancholy, and unflinching, as Joseph paints compelling portraits of his past. In “I Had No More To Say,” Joseph recalls his tender dance at a tough, tenderloin-type bar with a touchingly perceptive partner:

“I told her about
Dodge Truck.
How I swung differentials,
greased bearings,
lifted hubs to axle casings
in 110 heat.
How the repairman said nothing
as he watched me
almost lose two fingers.
Although she did
not answer, her face
tensed and her eyes
told me, Don’t
be afraid, it
won’t last forever.

In “It Will Rain All Day,” the poet hones in on his old ‘hood, and brands us with his vision that brands him:

“I see a large crane lifting
a railroad car, piles of bald tires,
the two towers of St. Anne’s
where, in a corner, there are crutches,
body braces, and letters written
to acknowledge miracles. I want
all this to come to an end
or a beginning, I want to look
into the black eyes of the lone woman
waiting for a bus and say
something, I want my memory
to hold this air, so I can make
the hills with white hair
and the clouds breaking into blackness
my own, carry them with me
like the letters and icons
immigrants take in suitcases
to strange countries.”

Highly Recommended.

Doug Holder/ Ibbetson Update

My brother Don, the lighting designer, is at it again. He is doing the lighting for a musical "The Times Thet Are A Changin'," and has worked with the legendary poet/songwriter Bob Dylan. Here are some tidbits about the show,etc...that he sent to me.


The Times They Are  Changin' was conceived, directed and choreographed by Twyla Tharp. Dylan has not been directly involved, although he and his managers initially approached Twyla about creating a show around his catalog of songs. He spent a day with us last week, just prior to the start of public performances, and was really pleased with the production.

I got a chance to meet him, and it was a big thrill...

Here's the official description of the piece:

The Times They Are A-Changin' "is set within a low-rent traveling circus run by Capt. Arab, whose wagon hasn't moved from its location in some time, though not by lack of effort from his ragtag band of clowns and performers," a release states. "One such performer is the animal trainer Cleo , a young woman exploited by Capt. Arab and loved by his son, Coyote . Coyote longs for a world outside the confines of the family business, and as the circus show plays out, he must decide whether to flee or stay, and if he does stay, how to inspire change within the troupe."
Like Movin' Out, there is no text, but this production is in all other ways vastly different.
It's a real reflection of the dark, atmospheric world often evoked in Dylan's songs. Twyla has created a piece that through music and movement (a combination of gymnastics, acrobatics and ballet) tells a real compelling story while providing a very dark commentary on our contemporary culture. The show features an awesome live band, and the approx 30 Dylan songs are performed by the 3 principal performers. It's an incredible evening in the theatre, and audiences are loving it.
Should it continue to go well here in San Diego, there's certainly interest to move the show to Broadway

Somerville Artists Lee Kidd and Jessa Piaia Continue to “Squawk”

Lee Kidd and Jessa Piaia are Somerville artists who like many Somerville artists engage in a labor of love. Every Thursday night (9PM) at the Harvard Epworth Church in Harvard Square (1555 Mass. Ave) in Cambridge, Mass. they run the venerable Squawk Coffeehouse. This is an eclectic venue of poetry and music that has been around in one form or the other since 1989. Lee Kidd, founder of Harvard Square’s “International School of Foreign Language,” and actress and Harvard University employee Jessa Praia, as well as cartoonist Mick Cusimano, and “Poet’s Theatre,” host Richard Cambridge, are the cabal that has kept this series running all these years.

Squawk had notable guests over the years such as: Ed Sanders, John Sinclair, Tuli Kupferberg and Herschel Silverman. Many musicians have cut their teeth here like: Mary Lou Lord, Vance Gilbert and Ellis Paul. Squawk is also the name of a magazine that is associated with the venue. “Squawk” continues to be a destination for tourists and locals who need strong doses of no-nonsense music and poetry in the heart of Harvard Square.

Doug Holder: If you had to give the mission statement of”‘Squawk,” what would that be?

Lee Kidd; Well, inside of the “Squawk” magazine cover in every issue we give a little manifesto. It’s actually by “Fact Sheet Five,” and it says: “An open mic in print.” It means we are in print. We are not a hard cover book operation, but we are better than a napkin people write on. And we put in new stuff in our magazine.

Jessa Praia: We always encourage people to work on new stuff. We want them to showcase their talent every week. They should not be afraid to take chances. It is a receptive audience.

DH: How is your venue different from all the others in the area?

LK: Well that’s real direct and real easy. We are a coffeehouse. We serve really good coffee and it comes with the $3 admission. A coffeehouse has an open mic, but it also has music, discussion, etc… A coffeehouse is unpredictable.

DH: Has anything really bizarre happened at “Squawk?”

LK: Quite bizarre…yes. Once we had a gentleman who stripped himself naked and hung himself up on a cross. It was part of his act…he was also talking to his girlfriend.

JL: There was a woman who participated once who had nothing on but a bridal veil that was down to her ankles.

DH: Lee. You told me you had a poem published in “The New Yorker,” but essentially published nothing since. Do you ever plan to?

LK: I have never really sent out anything in my life. The way I got into “The New Yorker,” was when I went to the “Beat Literature Conference,” down in N.Y.C. As we were out there we just met David Amram for the first time (musician cohort of Jack Kerouac etc…), and a woman was handing out pieces of paper that said: “Write a Haiku For “The New Yorker.” I just scribbled out something. I wrote a Haiku. I gave it to the lady. She took my picture, and that was that. Three weeks later when I just got back from Prague, I was in the Café Pamplona in Harvard Square and the waiter said: “You’re in “The New Yorker!”

I don’t send stuff around, but I keep writing. Probably I’ll put my poems in chapbooks.

DH: Jessa. I am told you are an actor. What kind of acting do you do?

JP: I am a character actor. In the early 90’s I developed a series of historical characters. I called them ‘Women in History.’ There are seven characters that span the time from colonial to contemporary times. Each of these women made a contribution to the greater good. They were also connected to the state of Massachusetts. They were born here, or did their significant work here. Amelia Earhart was one. She had strong Boston connections. She is the most contemporary one. Susan B. Anthony, the Suffragist, who was born in Massachusetts, is another.

DH: Tell me about “Squawk” magazine

JP: We put out 58 issues. Our 58th issue came out in Oct 2006. We initially published something that reported what was going on in the coffeehouse. It started small, but came out frequently. It started out twice-a-week. It was small format. We went to large format. It has gone on for years, and got better and better. We collected poems from our friends, and people who came to the open mic. Then we went to NYC for the “Small Press festival.” People bought “Squawks.” It was always well-received. We believe that “Squawk” will live long after we are gone. They are like time capsules of what was going on.

DH: You went to Harvard. When I interviewed the late Robert Creeley at “the Wilderness House Literary retreat” http://www.wildernesshouse.org/ he told me found the Harvard experience a negative one. He said he experienced snobbery, indifferent professors, etc… I have heard this from other poets as well. What was your experience?

LK: I was a graduate student. When I got to Harvard I was in Harvard Divinity School. This was the late 60’s. There were all kinds of actions going on that were positive and disruptive…and good. I never found a dull moment. I’m from West Virginia, and I feared snobbery from the East, but I had a good experience.

DH: Did you know "Brother Blue" at Harvard?

LK:I went to school with the storyteller “Brother Blue.” He was just as he is now. We met in 1967 on the checkout line at the Harvard Coop. My life would be less of one if I didn’t know Brother Blue.

Doug Holder. * Doug Holder will be reading from his poetry collection “Wrestling With My Father,” Feb. 23 at Squawk.

Bring Me Her Heart ( Higganum Hill Books 2006) Sarah Getty. – A Review by Juliana Bures

Sarah Getty’s upcoming collection of poetry, Bring Me Her Heart, to be published in May 2006 by Higganum Hill Books, is worthwhile investment for those looking to find a diverse voice deserving of an audience.

The collection is divided into four sections that exemplifies Getty’s talent and range of thought, memory, fantasy, and most importantly, dedication. The most striking poems of the collection are those written about her mother, a woman whom Getty presents with both grace and poise, in connection to her own sense of wonderment and discovery at becoming an older woman along side her.

From the poem, “Initiation,” where Getty recounts the reversal of roles, of being her mother’s child in addition to the woman who visits the assisted living facility, are the lines “This month I complete my sixtieth-year./Helped by no goddess’s spell, I am two-in-one, mourning child/disguised as an old woman.” Or from “Last Words,” Getty addresses the confusion of aging, of mother to daughter to granddaughter. “Sometimes she confuses/the two of us, daughter and granddaughter, or blends us into one small, dark-haired, over-educated girl.”

There is simplicity to Getty’s observations and a respect of the dual aging process encountered during her mother’s illness. Her resiliency becomes it’s own entity, in that she doesn’t forget who she is or who her mother was, ever. The poem “Obituary,” provides the small, mundane pieces of her mother that, no doubt, made her a messy human being like all the rest. From the subtitled section, “Worries,” is the statement, “That her daughters would betray her by getting married/before they got pregnant.”

Other strengths of Getty’s writing make their mark in this collection as well. Her ability to observe and make note of the current human condition compared to what it once was, has its own place, “…we new worldings, empirical, informed/up to our eyebrows, with five hundred more years/spent observing our own and one another’s/bodies…Well, we carry on.” Her nod to “what’s all been said before” makes the poem, “The Earth is Saying,” a strong force to be reckoned with. “Gepetto in the Belly of the Dogfish,” “Lewis Carroll’s Last Photograph of Alice Liddell,” and “Trio From an Imaginary Opera,” are all fanatically fantastic poems with their own element of creativity.

Sarah Getty’s poetry is worth getting to know because it makes you want to know yourself, your mind, your imagination, and the world around you better. She seems to echo Mary Oliver’s sentiment, “To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.” Indeed, Getty pays attention to everything and she wants you to know it.
Ibbetson Update//Juliana Bures//January, 2006

Poems of Survival. Marc Widershien. ( Poplar Editions PO BOX 57 Boston, Ma. 02131) $9. http://www.marcreate.com/ marccreate@aol.com


Marc Widershien and I have have had a long association. First introduced by Cynthia Brackett Vincent, the publisher of the "Aurorean" in the late 90's, I had the privilege to publish Widershien's lyrical memoir of Boston, "The Life of All Worlds" in 2001. Since then, Widershien has revived his poetry career and is a well-known, working poet in the Boston-area. His ambitions have not ended there however. Widershien has formed his own small press, "Poplar Editions," that has released his poetry collection: "Poems of Survival." And indeed, if you know Widershien, you know he is a survivor. And he has survived to grace us with his evocative, and sometimes stunning collection of poetry. In all of Widershien's poems there is a strong sense of musicality. So it is no wonder that we learn in the introduction written by the composer Aaron Blumenfeld, that Blumenfeld has set more than a few of Widershien's poems to music. The composer writes of Widershien's work:

" His poetry evokes the incredible futility and powerlessness of individual human beings', dreams and aspirations against the inexorable passage of time and the the immensity and power of the universe.... Marc's poetry reminds me of a question my father once asked me after we listened to a piece of symphonic music together. He asked, "What does it mean?" That is why I greatly appreciate Marc's poetry...because his poetry shares that trait with music."

Widershien's poetry explores the classic ontological themes of the passage of time, etc...through his astute observations of nature, and all the players on its stage. In "Walden III" Widershien is a modern day Jewish Thoreau, observing the organism of nature and it's inevitable cycles at Walden Pond in Concord, Mass:

"The ripples below me are driven
toward the shore's body.
Once again, I find myself in this ecology's
giant organism.

Hieroglyphs sketched by wind
on white birch, mushrooms sucking life
out of dead barks,
honeysuckle
--how the earth sustains its parasites.
The floaters bob in the Pond
dividing child from adult,
the shallow from the deep waters
yellowed with urine.

yet-life's cycling story book
drives endlessly
--on. (6)

In the brilliant poem "Cutting the Air Way," Widershien imagines a bunch of "ancient birds," on the Boston Common, and their deity, an old woman who feeds them religiously:

"those ancient birds those ancestral voices
squabbling for the squatter's rights to a lamppost
tell the tale of the tribe as well as any rhapsode--
fluid continuous diagonals of flocks carving
out boundaries obscure to man....

They wait for the old woman
dragging a garbage bag filled with feed
who comes to the park every day
she is the goddess of Boston Common,
a sister to their metaphysical flights. (8)

Widershien offers us an arresting portrait of what at first sight is a very pedestrian scene.

Widershien is a PhD, but don't hold that against him. There are classical and literary references, but one does not have to be a scholar to appreciate his work. The only requirement is to be a fully-fleshed human being.

Doug Holder/ Ibbetson Update

Playwright Don DiVecchio Finds Whitey Bulger


On a wintry, snowy day at the Sherman Café in Union Square, Somerville, Don DiVecchio confided in me about legendary South Boston mobster Whitey Bulger. DiVecchio, former poetry editor for “Spare Change News,” longtime activist, playwright and painter has penned a play “Finding Whitey Bulger,” that examines this strange contradiction of a man. DiVecchio, who believes Bulger is no longer alive, researched his subject for many months and now hopes to stage this play in the near future.

I was interested to know why DiVecchio, a well-known left-of-center activist, would want to write about someone of this ilk. DiVecchio told me over coffee and Sherman’s delectable oatmeal/cherry scones: “I was fascinated by the duplicity of power. He was somebody that represented the old ways of running a neighborhood similar to the godfathers and other patriarchs.” Bulger, according to DiVecchio, was capable of unspeakable crimes, but on the other hand he was kind to elderly women, helped people with their rents, etc… This contradiction is present in the actions of state and national governments. DiVecchio said there is a shadowy side to us all. In the case of Bulger, a bad guy did some good things. DiVecchio wants the audience to explore the “Bulger” in all of us.

DiVecchio uses the conceit of a “play within a play,” in order to get his point across. He stated, “Nothing is as it seems. Appearances are deceiving. By presenting a play within a play, it challenges the audience. It makes them question…to go deeper. The more one is forced to examine inner contradictions the deeper one gets into a character.

Divecchio is a decidedly political playwright. He adapted a play “Soul Street,” from a novel by the late writer Rufus Goodwin that dealt with the plight of a homeless man. He wrote and produced a radio play, “Voices from the Invisible,” on Tufts radio, and “Sarah’s Journal,” a play about eviction as it relates to an elderly Holocaust survivor that played at the “Cambridge Center for Adult Education.” DiVecchio said he has been influenced by political playwrights like Sartre and Brecht. He added with a smile: “Everything is political.”

Since leaving his position as “Spare Change News,” poetry editor, he has had more time to concentrate on short stories, plays and a novel. Ironically he has written very little poetry.

His creative partner, as well as his personal one, Terry Crystal, has composed a musical. It is a musical that concerns “industrial hemp,” titled: “Caitlin County Hemp Wars.” DiVecchio has just finished writing the dialogue for this work. Both he and Crystal hope to see the production staged sometime next year. The musical is based on a story DiVecchio wrote. The Hemp in question is not “marijuana” as it is often confused for, but industrial hemp used for paper, construction material, clothing,etc…The government, according to DiVecchio, has made use of hemp illegal because they feel this versatile plant would threaten the paper, lumber and other industries. In spite of the positive impact on the environment hemp could have, industrial concerns seem to come first, according to DiVecchio. “It defies all logic,” he said.

The play centers on a farm family, as it contends with huge agribusinesses that try to thwart their plans to harvest hemp. DiVecchio feels the musical will bring light to what he feels is an unaddressed injustice in the world.



Doug Holder/The Somerville News.

Mauled Illusionist. Jean Monahan. ( Orchises Press. PO BOX 20602 Alexandria, VA. ) 22320 $15


I first read Jean Monahan’s poems in “The South End News,” a community newspaper in Boston, Mass. I was impressed with her work, and later a poem of hers appeared in one of the first issues of “Ibbetson Street.” Recently I booked her to read in the “Newton Free Library Poetry Series,” in the Fall of 2006. And later Monahan sent me her new collection of poems: “Mauled Illusionist.” After selectively reading it, I was again reminded of why I chose her to read in the series. Her poetry has a sense of play, it slowly draws the reader in, and goes deep; behind the obscuring scrim of everyday life. In a very clever poem: “ Humpty Dumpty,” the poet taps into the thoughts of the fairytale character as he sits on his tenuous perch, and gets to some larger truths: “ Though I straddle a wall between hope/ and sorrow, I find a kind of peace/ between them. / The fragile/ must be above it all, / self-contained, potential / cracked open by surprise – and life -/ a lake within herself, a sun,/ The shell is delicate, but it will mend./ Nothing in this garden has not been broken./ Even the promises of Kings.” In the poem “Mauled Illusionist Goes Home,” Monahan writes of the plight of the trainer and illusionist Roy Horn, who was mauled by his own tiger. The poet turns the table on the trainer and explores the illusions he creates for the audience, and the illusions we all create for ourselves: “ I was hauled/ from the glittering ring,/ beaten at my own game, tamed./ Offstage /I healed/ myself, away from the crowds/ who passed to close and loud, / heart-in-mouth / for my throat in the maw,/ my whip on the back/ of what we feed and love and pretend / loves us back.

Highly recommended.

Doug Holder/ Ibbetson Update/ Somerville, Mass./ Jan. 2006

TINO VILLANUEVA: AN OVERVIEW









The article is written by Hugh Fox; a poet/archaeologist who has taught at Michigan State University since 1968. Author of 66 books, he is a major figure in the U.S. small press world, serving as editor of Ghost Dance: the International Quarterly of Experimental Poetry from 1968-1995. Ibbetson Street published his "Angel of Death," and "Boston: A Long Poem." I consider Hugh a friend and a mentor. He definitely thinks "outside the box." He makes me feel like my fly is perpetually down, a good thing I think!-- Doug Holder



Born on December 11, 1941 in San Marcos, Texas, Tino Villanueva worked as a migrant worker, assembly-line worker, and an army supply clerk. He is the founder of Imagine Publishers, Inc., and editor of Imagine: International Chicano Poetry Journal. Author of the book length poem Scene from the Movie GIANT (Curbstone, 1993) Villanueva has published three other volumes of poetry, Hay Otra Voz Poems, Shaking Off the Dark and Chronicle of My Worst Years/ Crónica de mis años peores. Villanueva won the American Book Award from the Before Columbus Foundation for Scene from the Movie GIANT in 1994. He teaches at Boston University.


TINO VILLANUEVA: AN OVERVIEW

Tino Villanueva is perhaps the biggest fake on the current literary scene. I mean he comes on primarily as Mr. Poor Chicano from San Marcos, Texas, but look again and there he is, Doctor Professor teaching in Boston University (where he got his Ph.D.), a master’s from SUNY-Buffalo, and before that a graduate (in letters) from Southwest Texas State University. And if that’s not enough, he’s also a painter, kind of cubistic, Picasso-ish, very impressive. When he start reading his work, does he sound like some kind of border Chicano slurring through his Spanish? More like Cervantes, or, in more modern terms, Pablo Neruda. His Chronicle of My Worst Years published by Northwestern University/TriQuarterly Books in Evanston, just north of Chicago in 1994, OK, so he talks about his early years suffering as a prejudiced-against Chicano in Texas, but even here, although the message gets across, you’re still in the presence of Doctor Literato. I’ll give the translation here, but put the Spanish in just to show those who know about these things just how literary Dr. Villanueva is:
2. I give more thought now to how prison like that childhood was in the abhorrent world of cotton-field work. Who gave the order in the ‘40s the furrows had to be so long, and the time that dragged in picking them should slaver to devour me?

(“Promised Lands,” p. 67)



(con más razón ahora considero,/cuán presa estuvo aquella infancia/en el dominio aborrecible/de las labores de algodón./Quién mandó que en los 40/fueran tan largos los surcos,/y que el tiempo/que/que tardé en piscarlos/fuera voraz para mi vida?, p.66)

He’s very careful here, isn’t he, to stick in a little “Chicanismo,” using cuán instead of cuánto, in order to capture the real peasant-slang of the workers, but....pure affectation, n’est pas? And when we move to another book of his Primera Causa/ First Cause, (Cross Cultural Communications, Merrick NY 2004), where are we but in the depths of Jungian caverns trying to figure out the whys and wherefores of existence:

In memory is my beginning, and so, here am I, face to face with this page and this predicament., with this vice that is a virtue the whole afternoon. Oh quest for distant memory and this equidistant longing with words. Finally, in the end, I write down what I’ve seen and all that is true. (I. “Memory That Never Ends,” p. 7) 3.(En el recuerdo se encuentra mi comienzo,/por eso heme aquí/ante un papel con este apuro,/con este vicio que es virtud toda la tarde./Oh costumbre del recuero/y el equidistante deseo con palabras./Por ültimo y al cabo” pongo lo que he visto y todo lo veraz, p. 6) Sometimes Doctor Villanueva Scholar pulls you out of the twentieth century altogether and brings you back into 17th century neoclassicism, like in this poem about Mnemosyne, the Goddess of Memory: Now, Mnemosyne, I’ve got you, and what pure pleasure to caress your name, to savor it, letter by letter, between my lips. I say it over and again and get swept into life because I’m me and my word and it’s autumn and with you I can be what I please. (p.27)

And the English translation by Lisa Horowitz is good, but somehow it lacks the antique flavor of the original Spanish: “Ahora aquí te tengo, Mnemosina,/y es hermoso acariciar tu nombre,/deletrearlo letra a letra entre los labios. Lo vuelvo a repetir/ y ya estoy viviendo,/porque soy yo y mi palabra y es otoño/y contigo me hago a mi manera.” The translation is accurate, but the original isn’t twentieth centuryish (much less “Chicanoish”) at all, more like a piece encountered in an ancient notebook in some antique collection in the national library in Madrid. What makes Villanueva even more challenging is that he can also jump totally into the twentieth century and write experimental poetry that is very much like his experimental cubist art.
4. There’s one book of his, Escena de la Película GIGANTE , originally published by Curbstone Press in Connecticut in 1993 and translated into Spanish and published by the Editorial Catriel in Marid in 2005, which is pure, beautiful experimentation, a long “meditation” on the gringo American film Giant, a 1956 film starring Rock Hudson, all about the huge gap in rights betwen Chicanos and gringos in old-time Texas. And again we’re back into racial/national disequality class meditations totally divorced from any Mr. Chicano prejudiced-against in what now seem like ancient, ancient times:

I am cast in time forward,wherethrough runs the present --- on track of light triumphant, the sum of everything that ignites this room with life, vida que no olvida,* calling out my name...(“...en el acto de contar/me lanzo hacia adelante en el tiempo, por donde transcurre/el presente -- una franja de luz triunfante,// la suma de todo lo qe enciende este salón/con vida, vida que no olvida, y que me está/llamando...”) (“The Telling,” pp. 88-89.) I suppose that Villanueva represents a real triumph of the underdog becoming the overseer, but after having lived in a world of affluent Latinos, and Brazilians most of my life, I don’t see him as that much of an exception. But triumphant he is, especially in the classical, profound impact of his art. _____*Life that doesn’t forget.

Hugh Fox /Ibbetson Update/ Jan 2006./ Somerville, Mass.

"the new renaissance" literary magazine

the new renaissance. 26 Heath Rd. #11 Arlington, Ma. 02474 http://www.tnrlitmag.net $14.95 tnrlitmag.aol.com editor: Louise Reynolds

I am on the advisory board of tnr, so I guess I am biased. But let me tell you, Louise Reynolds puts out one hell of a magazine from her cramped apartment in Arlington, Mass. It is a glossy-covered, perfect-bound affair with high quality paper, artwork, prose, poetry, fiction, etc... Reynolds has been putting it out since the 70's. Whenever I talk to her she's scrambling for funds or such to keep this publication alive. In the current issue #37, there is an informative article by H. Gyde Lund and Ashbindu Singh titled: "Reining in on Rainforest Destruction," and some arresting etchings by Zevi Bloom. There is of course a fair sampling of fiction, essays,and poetry to be had as well. Being a poet I of course gravitated to the poetry section and the impressive roster of tnr poets. Daniel Tobin, the head of the Creative Writing Dept. at Emerson College in Boston, has a poem: "The Scream," that is a wonderful study of Munch's famed painting. Jay Baron Nicorvo's "Hot Knives," has a beautiful description of a heroin high that will send chills down your spine, and perhaps peak a perverse interest: " That high was/ walking a road/ through a dense wood, under a full moon, with cobwebs catching/ in our eyelashes/ without the wish to swat/ at the spider or shear/ the silk that wove across our vision." This is a magazine that is true to its mission of presenting ideas and opinions, with an emphasis on literature and the arts.

Doug Holder/ Ibbetson Update/ Jan. 2006/ Somerville, Mass

Somerville Poet Rebecca Kaiser Gibson: A Shy Woman Who Is Passionate About Poetry.

Rebecca Kaiser Gibson may describe herself as basically a shy person, but there is no paucity of words when she describes her passion for the arts. I first became aware of Gibson through an article in that “other” paper in town. Later while I was scribbling at a local bagel shop in Porter Square, I noticed her scribbling there as well. Our paths crossed again recently, and I invited her to join me on my Somerville Community Access TV show ‘Poet to Poet/Writer to Writer.”

Gibson is a lecturer in poetry at Tufts University, and has an eclectic background in both theatre and poetry. Her work has appeared in such publications as “Northwest Review,” “Field,” “Harvard Review,” and others. She has also been a managing director of the “New Voices Theatre Company,” in Boston, and assistant to Tina Packer, the artistic director of the “Boston Shakespeare Company.” She has an M.A. from the “Boston University Creative Writing Program.”

Doug Holder: I notice as a poetry editor, I get a lot of poetry about coffee shops, or experiences in them. You wrote a poem titled: “Dunkin’ Donuts. Somerville, Mass..” What is it about these places that spawn poets, poems, etc… And what’s your favorite java joint in the “Ville?

Rebecca Kaiser Gibson: With the donut poem, I didn’t actually sit there , in a Dunkin’ Donuts. It was really a poem about class. I had moved from Newton to Somerville. I felt I had a much wider range of what I could see and understand in Somerville, as opposed to the city of Newton, where I moved from.

My favorite coffee shop these days is the “Au Bon Pain,” in Davis square. Coffee shops create an atmosphere of things going on that you don’t have to do anything about. There is a low-grade noise that you aren’t responsible for, yet it seeps into your work. If fills a space that might be too empty if you are all alone. It’s kind of a friendly drone.

I find lately that I can’t work at coffee shops any more. I work at home alone now.

DH: You have four degrees in Creative Writing, Teaching Theatre, English Literature, and Theatre Arts. Did you like the life of a student? Do you still have a student’s sensibility?

RKG: I’m now longer student. But I am still a library person. I like to research. I am much happier doing that than almost anything else.

I hated being a student, until I went to Boston University to study Creative Writing. I was very shy, and I couldn’t talk in class. Being in the poetry program was my best experience.

DH: Now you are a teacher. You have to get up in front of a whole class.

RKG: For some reason that’s really easy. After the Creative Writing degree I could suddenly talk for some reason. I think because I was surrounded by people who understood me, and I understood them. I care a lot about what students are thinking. I feel like we are connected by some strange truth. It’s just fun.

DH: Can you tell us about your experience at the world-renowned Boston University Creative Writing Program where you earned your M.A.?

RKG: The way I got into it was bizarre. I was at the train station waiting to go to Concord when I saw the former Poet Laureate Robert Pinsky, who teaches at B.U. I really didn’t know much about him at the time. I said to him:” You are a poet aren’t you? Can I send you some stuff?” I was fearless and naïve. He( thank heaven) read it, and invited me to sit in on the program. I was a secretary at MIT at the time. I would go to MIT at 7 AM, then go to class, and then back to MIT. He suggested I apply for the program. I was there for a year and a half…a year as an official student. For me it felt like magic. Pinsky’s integrity about poems really having to be about something was an influence on me. I studied with Derek Walcott, the Nobel Prize Winner. It was wonderful.

DH: You have an extensive background in the theatre. How do you incorporate that into your poetry?

RKG: I was essentially a director of theatre. Actors make physical something that is on the page. I think this “physicality” is what appeals to me in both.
DH: As a poet, who is your favorite playwright?

RKG: I was heading towards saying Harold Pinter as my favorite playwright. Samuel Beckett is the other one.

DH: You have read at the “Bay State Correctional Facility” How did you get involved with this and what was the experience like?

RKG: I got involved through B.U. I read “Dunkin’ Donuts…” there. It was a strange experience. I was outside, inside and outside again. I felt disconnected. But they were a very interested audience.

DH: Close observation is an important tool for poetry. How do you focus in a world of distractions?

RKG:. When I write poetry, I’m not exactly focusing, it’s just coming in. I don’t know where it comes from.

DH: You have been a resident in a number of prestigious writers retreats like the “MacDowell Colony,” and “Bread Loaf.” Do these settings foster good work?

RKG: At “MacDowell,” I lived in the cottage where the composer Aaron Copeland stayed. It was a little too quiet for me. I had to get out to meet people. I love being in the mountains but I still neede the company of other people. This environment fostered some good work for me. “MacDowell” is a deeply supportive place for artists.

“”Bread Loaf,” is very social. You have conferences; you talk to people, etc…

Thunderbird. Alexander Parsons. (sunnyoutside PO BOX 441429 Somerville, Mass. 02144) $10 http://www.sunnyoutside.com

Sunnyoutside, a small press based in Somerville, Mass. has released a chapbook of short fiction by NEA Literary Fellowship recipient Alexander Parsons: “Thunderbird.” This limited edition release is signed by the author, and features a hand-set, letter-press printed cover, hand-stitch binding and prints of six original woodcuts by Boston artist Adrian Rodriguez. The short story “Thunderbird,” appeared in the “Mid-American Review,” in 2003. The story is about a young man who loses his job, girlfriend, health and sanity in a bad car accident. Because of intolerably painful migraines as a result of the accident, the protagonist lets his life slowly slip away:

“It wasn’t that I stopped thinking about unemployment, eviction, destitution and the rest of respectability’s quick dissolution, but that these thought slowed so much that they stretched into long, unintelligible notes, like those deep, layered chants of Tibetan monks.”

As it happens our hapless hero hooks up with another lost soul “V.P.,” and begins a sojourn across the country by boxcar like a hobo of yore. Through V.P., a delusional and most likely a psychotic self-proclaimed visionary figure, he gains insight about his own condition and the prison of his mind. In this passage V.P. literally takes flight from the boxcar and his traveling partner:

“V.P. watched the passing lights intently. He turned to me and grasped my head between his hands as though he meant to crush my skull. “There’s still time to write another act,” he said, squeezing. He released me and I fell back in fear. I was sure he could have killed me. He turned and sprang from our perch. The headlamps of a passing truck pulled him into sharp focus for an instant, illuminating him with his arms outstretched, as if they were willing himself to fly.”

This is original, provocative writing from a very original small press.

Doug Holder/Ibbetson Update/ Somerville, Mass. Jan. 2006

Ben Franklin Comes to Jimmy Tingle’s Off Broadway Theatre for his 300th Birthday.


Forget your memories of those dry elementary school productions of an airbrushed Ben Franklin, processed as blandly as a chunk of Velveeta cheese. Ben Franklin, as portrayed by Burdette Parks, in "Benjamin Franklin, Printer, Etc." at Jimmy Tingle’s Off-Broadway Theatre, in Davis Square, Somerville, not only talks about his vital roles as a printer, diplomat, scientist, and founding father of these United States, but also informs us of his ideas about “passing gas,” his dalliances with “low-women,” his advocacy of young men paired with old women, his feminism, and other juicy tidbits.

Burdette, although not a dead ringer for old Ben, pulls of this one-man show expertly, affecting a convincing avuncular manner, and the prerequisite twinkle in his eyes.

Being a long-time writer for “The Somerville News,” and a newspaper freak in general, I was interested to hear Franklin’s account of his forays into the printing business and his internship at his brother’s paper: “The New England Courant,” and his founding of the Pennsylvania Gazette” in Philadelphia.

Franklin has long been associated with Philadelphia, but he was actually born in Boston in 1706. When he worked for his brother’s newspaper as a mere boy under the pen name of “Silence Dogood;” he seemed to have ruffled a few uptight Puritan feathers with his bold pronouncements concerning freedom of the press. Franklin left the land of the bean and the cod in the dust and hightailed it to New York City, and finally Philadelphia, which became his home base.

During the production Burdette portrays Franklin in his signature print shop, talking while setting type. At the end of the production Franklin actually presents to the audience a printed piece of work, which he reads from…an interesting conceit.

What stands out about Franklin, as Burdette portrays him, is that although he was very much a creature of his own time, he thought outside the box, and his studied thought and philosophy translates well into our contemporary times.

Franklin was a compelling character and if he was around Somerville today I would surely ask him to join for me a stout at the Burren. And you know what…he might just be the kind of guy who would join me. Check this play out!

Doug Holder/ "The Somerville News"

Info: 617-591-1616
http://www.jtoffbroadway.com/