This is where you go when you are gone. Tim Gager

This is where you go when you are gone. Tim Gager ( Cervena Barva Press POBOX 440357 West Somerville, Mass. 02144) $7. http://www.cervenabarvapress.com

Tim Gager’s poems are poems of the regular guy, and in his own way Gager’s work is as American as apple pie. He is a man who is confused by and craves women, retains a childlike enthusiasm for Baseball into his middle age , downs the burger and brews, and pines for something that always seems just out of his reach. There is nothing rarefied about the poet’s work; his poetry speaks as plainly as a stick or bone.

In the poem “2A.M.” Gager writes evocatively about the concessions of carnality:

“ On me
you push down
the weight on each bent leg,
cures my evils…
no more bile
to hold down
no more skeletons
to settle for
when it’s dark…”

And Gager really hits his stride with “ stuck, with my old school ways.” I must admit in this age of the wireless I remain a Luddite , and view the pay phone, and the phone booth with a certain romantic reverence. Gager infuses this one pedestrian booth simmering in the Arizona heat with a plume of sad/sweet nostalgia and longing:

“ got green in my pocket
not plastic—nor have I
ever brought a cell
to make his call like this
with poles and wires
endless from where I stand
to you

i’ve driven miles in dust
to find this pay phone
to whisper in your ear
i love you baby
and how are the kids

on the side of the road,
my loneliness
is this booth where
i hear you smile
and I picture
the way your hips thrust
forward, every time you laugh…
this surge of you
bursts, hits me
like the heat in Arizona
at ten
AM.”

This is another fine collection from Cervena Barva. And hats off to the front cover artist Andrea Libertini.

Presa Number 7 Spring 2008

PRESA Number 7 Spring 2008 (Presa S Press POBOX 792 Rockford, MI 49341) $8.50 presapress@aol.com http://www.presapress.com


Well, I have, and my minions of crack reviewers have reviewed many books that have come through the portals of Eric Greinke’s PRESA PRESS. I foreworn you I was the featured poet in this issue so I am deliriously biased. But I do have to say PRESA magazine is in the best tradition of small press journals. Eric Greinke has a thoughtful essay titled “ Toward A New Eclecticism” where he examines the gaping divide between the academy poets, and the small and independent presses. Greinke, although a dyed-in-the-wool small press doyen, pleads his case for more tolerance between the groups for other poetic forms. He tries to bring down “purists” of both camps. Greinke writes:

“The main problem we face in American poetry is narrow-minded intolerance of various forms taken by poetry itself. The obvious division along social class lines is a symptom of elitism and mutual intolerance, rather than being based in legitimate, fundamental, aesthetic differences.”

There is an extensive review section of chapbooks. Greinke recognizes that chaps are the currency of the small press: “ Literature owes a great deal to the chapbook. Historically, the first bound books were single signature chapbooks. They are nearly indestructible. They are non-commercial. Every poet first sees his work collected in a chapbook. They are the perfect medium for poetry, the quintessential “slim volume.” But it can be difficult to get them reviewed.” Well Presa addresses this problem with reviews of chaps by Harris Gardner, Mary Bonina, Ellaraine Lockie, Gerald Locklin, Michael Graves and others…

Also in this edition is an essay on Etheridge Knight by Ronnie M. Lane, as well as poetry by small press notables as Lyn Lifshin, Robert K. Johnson, Alan Catlin, Michael Estabrook,, Hugh Fox, Donald Lev, John Amen and others.

Highly Recommended.

KEEN
Philip Ramp
Shoestring Press 2008
$15.00 ISBN 978 1 904886 66 3


Philip Ramp's poems slip in and out of my thoughts
like water lapping on shore, not the coastal wave's
hard crash, but the gentle lapping of a calm sea
against a boat or a floating tree trunk. each time I
read one of Ramp's poems I am able to see right to
the bottom of his ocean, the fish darting, riding the
ebb and flow, "a shadow ran like a path." Ramp's ideas
are solitary in nature, but never random. he chooses
his words, phrases, metaphors, he ponders each line,
"so it was nature, not me, erased the intrusive
hills." the actuality of his reality becomes our
vision of his visit with his natural surroundings, he
places us before the sunset, "its not us death wants
but our memories, what we think we're sneaking out."
the poems become a landscape of thought. Ramp brings
us a sense of wonder, as if for the first time after a
long time, "I saw the stars as if caught unaware,
exposed, as big and luscious as fresh fruit. how could
it be I'd never seen that sky before." his vast space
contained within a depiction of trees, birds, breeze,
and, "the plastic flowers drooping."

Fall

of all the seasons
this is the one
gets nearest to complete,
the day scrubbed down
to its fundamental browns
put in a box
smooth to the eyes
rough to the touch
spilling over with leaves.
the wind rattles the last
useful music from the trees
shakes the mist
from the grass
gives the sky
a lick and a promise
and tells the birds; scat.
cleaned of their abstract shadows
things are so outward
they're as impervious as a hum.
all the distance
this one space can hold.
then brown's removed.
the going is gone.
the box is empty
and there's nothing
on the ground.


Irene Koronas
Reveiwer Ibbetson Street Press
Poetry Editor
Wilderness House Literary Review

Anne Elizabeth Tom: A Bagel Bard is the New Head of the Cape Cod Writers Center

Anne Elizabeth Tom: Bagel Bard New Head of the Cape Cod Writers Center


Anne Elizabeth Tom, among other things, is a member of the “Bagel Bards,” a writers group that meets every Saturday at the Au Bon Pain in Davis Square, Somerville. Late in 2007 Tom was appointed the new executive director of the Cape Cod Writers Center. Anne who lives on the Cape with her husband Steve grew up in Boston but remembers her summers on the Cape with great affection. Tom got an MFA from Tufts University, worked as a writer/editor for the MITRE Corp., started a family, lived around the country, but wound up back on the Cape.

For several seasons she produced the Grange Hall Poetry Series, the Cape Cod Winter Poetry Series, and produced original plays of Cape Cod playwrights. She is no stranger to the small press, and has published in such literary journals as the Aurorean, Ibbetson Street, Poesy, Out of the Blue Writers Unite (anthology), and Bagel with the Bards ll. Tom also established Cape Cod Cultural Tours which specialized in custom excursions focused on local history, and architecture. I spoke with Tom on my Somerville Community Access TV show “ Poet to Poet: Writer to Writer.”


Doug Holder: Anne you have lived a number of places and traveled the world. Why have you chosen the Cape to hang your hat?

Anne Elizabeth Tom: The Cape got under my skin at a very young age. To me it is a nostalgic place. Once you go over the Sagamore Bridge it is all Cape Cod and you don’t have to leave it to get from town to town. Especially in the off-season.

D H: That divide--- does it cut you off from the Boston poetry community?

AT: Unfortunately I don’t get up to Boston as much I would like to. But I try to get together with Boston poets also.

DH: There have always been a lot of writers residing on the Cape from Norman Mailer, on…

AT: I know. It is just amazing. The poet May Oliver lived there. Marge Piercy, and the list goes on. We have a lot of great theatre too. We have a new theatre the: Wellfleet Harbor Actors Theatre. There is a tremendous amount of talent. So there is plenty to do. I could be out a few nights a week.

DH: Can you tell us a bit about the history of the Cape Cod Writers’ Center, and your mission statement, etc…

AT: The Cape Cod Writers Center is almost fifty years old. It was started by a small group of writers to support one another. And that’s really still the mission to support one another. We have an annual conference that really is the core work of the center. One of the ways we expanded our mission statement is to include more readers, and that includes poets. We also have a breakfast with the authors series at the Hyannis Golf Club. We have hosted such writers as Jan Shapiro, Shelia Connolly, Scott Withiam, and others. So many people come around from the Cape. It helps to have things happening on a regular basis.

We have an annual conference in August. It’s held in a wonderful retreat, overlooking, the Nantucket Sound. It’s right next to a charming, little Victorian town.

DH: You have published in such small press magazines and anthologies as: Poesy , Ibbetson Street, Out of the Blue Writers Unite, and Bagel Bards ll to name a few. What’s your view of the small press?

AT: I feel it is very important. It is important to publish. After I left my position as a museum director and moved to the Cape, I said I didn’t care if I ever published anything. I just wanted to write. But it didn’t take long before I wanted to share, and be taken seriously. It was the Aurorean and Ibbetson Street that published me for the first time. It was in the fall of 2002-I think. It was such an affirmation of my work. The small press brings poets together. I don’t think it is a good idea for poets just to write about by themselves, and never show their work. The small press is a wonderful way to meet other poets and get your work out there. Fred Marchant, one of our poets-in-residence at the Center, encouraged us to send our work to the small press.

DH: Who were your other poets-in-residence

AT: Afaa Michael Weaver, Wes McNair, to name a couple.

DH: What is the young writers workshop you offer about?

AT: We have a lot of summer people from other cities and other states that send their kids here. This year it’s going to be taught by David Surette. It is for talented writers between the ages of 12 to 16. It is held from Aug. 18 to Aug. 22 during our summer conference.

DH: You have done different types of writing. Why is poetry your favored genre?

AT: I’ve done business writing, and public relations writing. My favorite non-poetry writing is research and writing about history. I feel things very deeply, and I find poetry as the best way to express this.

for more information go to http://capecodwriterscenter.com

--Doug Holder

Barnes and Noble and The Small Press.

Barnes and Noble and The Small Press.

Ok. I can understand why Barnes and Noble can’t stock the many titles that are produced in the Small Press. But for crying out loud, when you have a well-known local poet, whose book has received good coverage in the local media, will be making appearances at local colleges, and reading around town, don’t you think you could be a bit more community minded? Barnes and Noble at Harvard University refused to grant any shelf space for Lisa Beatman’s book of poetry “Manufacturing America” a book of poetry about immigrant workers at the Ames Safety Envelope Factory in Somerville, Mass. They also refused to give her a reading at the store. Lisa is a graduate of the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard, and the publisher has a graduate degree from the University as well. And what’s funny this is the University’s bookstore! Most colleges I have dealt with have no problem doing this for their former students. It would be great if a poet who writes about the unsung workers in a local factory could read at a venue like this, along with the other authors who get recognition from the store. Thank god for indies like Porter Square Books, McIntyre and Moore, the Grolier---where would we be without them!

Doug Holder/Ibbetson Street Press


Here are the exchanges between Beatman and the store.


Nancy,

Thanks for your email. I do understand about market forces. However, your
decision to exclude considering small press publications, particularly in
the case of a Harvard alumna, is an unfortunate one. It perpetuates the
public perception that when a large national chain takes over a venerable
local institution, it loses its character and responsiveness to the
community.

Sincerely,

Lisa


Thank you for letting us know about your book. When it comes to stocking
books on the shelves of our store and choosing authors for our events, we
have to make choices. More than 150,000 new titles annually are submitted to
our store by traditional publishers. With more than 1.5 million books in
print via traditional publishers & distributors, our store does not have
room to stock the tens of thousands of small press titles that are produced
annually.
Sincerely,
Nancie Scheirer
The Harvard Coop
Trade Book Manager

Somerville artist Heather Bonin helps bring “sub-zero” on stage.

Somerville artist Heather Bonin helps bring “sub-zero” on stage.

Powder House Square resident Heather Bonin is a 25-year-old Regis College graduate, who works as an asst. stage manager for the critically acclaimed play “sub-zero” written by Anastasia Townsend, playing at the Factory Theatre in the South End of Boston. Bonin who graduated with B.A. in Theatre, has worked with the Speak Easy Theatre, and had had roles in the production of plays by Tom Stoppard and others, in regional theatres in the area. Bonin cheerfully describes herself as a “starving artist” and has a hard time keeping up with the payments on her cell phone. She said as a stage manager she is a “Jane of all trades.” She helps with the props, feeds lines to the actors, monitors the audition process, gets the company takeout grub, you name it. Although an MFA is not in her immediate future she seems destined to have a career working in the theatre.

After graduating from Regis in 2005, she moved to Somerville when an apartment in Dorchester fell through. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise. She finds Somerville the ideal place to live. It is accessible to Boston, and Somerville’s artist-friendly environment is a perfect fit for her Boheme sensibility.

The Factory Theatre is in the basement of a large artists residence the “Piano Factory” on Tremont Street in the South End. Jim Resnick, my companion for the evening and I found the theatre to be decidedly intimate (50 seats), with exposed brick, (well, you know the drill,) the whole Off-Off Broadway digs, kind of affair. The play opens in a city in the shadow of Somerville, Cambridge, Mass. It is at the end of a long winter of discontent for a manic depressive artist/professor Fenton, played by Chuck Schwager, his wife Lois played by Jean Sheikh, their son Sean played by Joe Orrigo, and the young object of desire of the two men, Claire, played by Lisa Caron Driscoll.

It seems that Lois, wants her son to keep tabs on Fenton, as he is quickly hitting the skids in a manic freefall. But, ah what a tangled web we weave! Both father and son become involved with Claire, an artist model/ coffee server, who is as unfocused as they are. The mother, Lois, seems to be the most stable of the characters. But until the end she is rendered affected and ineffectual in a suited armor of academic jargon and posturing.

The dialogue is sharp, bantering, witty, and at times a bit over the top. And make sure you bring your pocket Janus as there are many references to the “arts”, “artists,” not to mention the many intellectual barbs that are thrown about like poisonous darts. Both father and son are prone to purple flourishes, and the audience is made to wonder where the artistic temperament ends, and where the mental illness begins.

Having worked at McLean Hospital for the past twenty-five years, I can attest to the fact that Townsend does capture the wild highs and lows, the verbal barrage, that a full-blown manic episode can bring. The father, a middle-aged, cherub-faced hysteric rages against his fate like Harpo Marx as King Lear. The playwright sticks a pin in the balloon that romanticizes the mad artist. Townsend has written a thought provoking piece that dramatically examines identity, the familial ties that bind and break, and the toll of mental illness.

For more information go to: http://ww.ridgeproductions.org 978-460-3294

--Doug Holder

Philip E. Burnham's Poetry Collection "Housekeeping" ( Ibbetson Press 2005) to be featured on NPR

Philip E. Burnham, Jr's Housekeeping: Poems out of the ordinary (Ibbetson, 2005) will be featured on Garrison Keillor's The Writer's Almanac on NPR.

March 14, 2008





Ibbetson Street Press

25 School Street

Somerville MA 02143 (617) 628-2313

http://www.ibbetsonpress.com



Garrison Keillor, host of A Prairie Home Companionâ and of The Writer's Almanacâ, would like to include a poem by Philip Burnham, Jr.in his program. We understand you hold rights to the poem, and I am writing to arrange permission to include it on The Writer’s Almanac. The poem and broadcast date are:



“Assignment # 1: Write a poem about Baseball and God” from Housekeeping: Poems out of the ordinary April 4, 2008



The Writer’s Almanac is a daily radio program produced by American Public Media (APM). In each program Mr. Keillor presents a list of cultural events and anniversaries, many associated with literature and literary figures, then ends with the poetry reading. APM currently distributes the program for broadcast to about 320 non-commercial public radio stations around the country. The program audio is also streamed and podcast from and archived on the APM website at http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org and may be streamed, archived on carrying station websites as well. In addition, we would appreciate permission to put the text of the poem on those websites and promotional materials, only in connection with The Writer’s Almanac.







Sincerely,



Kathy Roach




“Assignment # 1: Write a poem about Baseball and God” ( From the collection "Housekeeping")


Assignment #1: Write a poem about Baseball and God

And on the ninth day, God
In His infinite playfulness
Grass green grass, sky blue sky,
Separated the infield from the outfield,
Formed a skin of clay,
Assigned bases of safety
On cardinal points of the compass
Circling the mountain of deliverance,
Fashioned a wandering moon
From a horse, a string and a gum tree,
Tempered weapons of ash,
Made gloves from the golden skin of sacrificial bulls,
Set stars alight in the Milky Way,
Divided the descendants of Cain and Abel into contenders,
Declared time out, time in, stepped back,
And thundered over all creation:


"Play Ball!"

THE BOSTON NATIONAL POETRY MONTH FESTIVAL April 12 , 2008

PRESS RELEASE
THE BOSTON NATIONAL POETRY MONTH FESTIVAL
Now in its SUCCESSFUL Eighth !!! Year

CO-SPONSORS:Tapestry of Voices & Kaji Aso Studio in partnership with
The Boston Public Library. Starts Saturday, April 12th, 2008 10:00 A.M.
To 5:00 P.M. OPEN MIKE: Saturday, 1:30 to 4:00P.M. The festival will be held at the library ’s main branch in Copley Square.


56 Major and emerging poets will each do a ten minute reading; also


Featuring six extraordinarily talented prize winning high school students: Rhea Kroutil-McKendry and Tu Phan, Boston Latin High School; Jocelyn Morris, Yamira Serret, Taoe Clark, Boston Arts Academy; and Gabriella Fee, a Sophomore attending the Walnut Hill School for the Arts. These Student stars will open the festival at 10:00 A.M. SAM CORNISH, Boston's new and first Poet Laureate will open the formal part of the festival at 11:00 A/M. 55 additional major and emerging poets will follow with a
POETRY MARATHON.
Some of the many luminaries include SAM CORNISH, Diana DerHovanessian , Rhina P. Espaillat, Richard Wollman, Lloyd Schwartz,, Fred Marchant, Barbara Helfgott-Hyett, DanTobin, Charles Coe, Danielle Legros-Georges, Regie Gibson, Marc Widershien, Sandee Story, Tino Villanueva,C.D. Collins, Stuart Peterfreund, Frannie Lindsay, Ifanyi Menkiti, Lainie Senechal, Harris Gardner, Susan Donnelly and Doug Holder.


This festival has it all. A plethora of professional poets, celebrities, a Pulitzer Prize Winner, numerous award winners, student participation.
Even more, it is about community, neighborhoods, diversity, BOSTON and MASSACHUSETTS. This fast growing tradition is one of the largest events in Boston’s Contribution to National Poetry Month. FREE ADMISSION !!


For information: Tapestry of Voices, (617-306-9484) or
617-723-3716 Library: (617)- 536-5400


Wheelchair accessible. Assistive listening devices available. To request a sign language interpreter or for other special needs, call (617) 536-7855 (TTY) at least two weeks before the program date.






Harris Gardner

The Art of Writing Poetry with Doug Holder

NEWTON COMMUNITY EDUCATION



( click on to enlarge)


Course ID:
W1024

Course Name:
The Art of Writing Poetry (Writing & Speaking)

Description:
Poets want two things: to be able to write compelling poetry, and to
see it in print. In this participatory workshop we will develop
poetry through creative brainstorming. Feedback will focus on the
effective use of language, imagery, and metaphor in the construction
of a poem. The instructor will provide leads for publishing and
contacts at small presses. Many students have published their poems
for the first time in the course of this workshop. Please bring
three original poems to each class. You will have the chance to read
your work aloud and to get feedback from other class members.

Instructor:
Douglas Holder

Time:
7pm to 9pm on Tuesday

Location:
Newton SOUTH HS in Room 2105

Tuition:
$110

No Class Dates:
(No class Apr 22)
Classes are from 4/8/2008 to 5/20/2008. There will be 6 sessions.

Doug Holder is a small press activist. He founded the Ibbetson
Street Press in the winter of 1998 in Somerville, Mass. He has
published over 40 books of poetry of local and national poets and
over 20 issues of the literary journal "Ibbetson Street." Holder is
a co-founder of "The Somerville News Writers Festival," and is the
curator of the "Newton Free Library Poetry Series" in Newton, Mass.
His interviews with contemporary poets are archived at the Harvard
and Buffalo University libraries, as well as Poet's House in NYC.
Holder's own articles and poetry have appeared in several
anthologies including: Inside the Outside: An Anthology of Avant-
Garde American Poets (Presa Press) "Greatest Hits: twelve years of
Compost Magazine (Zephyr Press) America's Favorite Poems edited by
Robert Pinsky. His work has appeared in such magazines as: Rattle,
Caesura, Home Planet News,Istanbul Literary Review, Sahara, The
Boston Globe Magazine, Poesy, Small Press Review, Artword Quarterly,
Manifold (U.K.), The Café Review, the new renaissance and many
others. He holds an M.A. in Literature from Harvard University.
Recently Holder was a guest of the "Voices Israel" literary
organization, and conducted workshops and read from his work in
Jerusalem, Tel Aviv (Zoa House), and Haifa. His two most recent
collections of poetry are: "Of All the Meals I Had Before," (
Cervena Barva),"No One Dies at the Au Bon Pain" (sunnyoutside)

"Bird Scarer"( poems) by Glenn Sheldon

"Bird Scarer"( poems) by Glenn Sheldon

$14.00 U.S. paperback

Cervena Barva Press

http://www.cervenabarvapress.com

ISBN: 9780615171678

Pub.: 2008



Review by Mike Amado



"Bird Scarer" is the first full-length poetry collection

by Glen Sheldon, though, at the same time, it stands in sapient

observation like a guru in a rock garden, silently reflecting

every speck.



The collection is split into three sections. All of which

own their own psyche, and draws for the reader a continuum

of images, both concrete and not, that shift perception

just like the poems switch geographic locations; from Chicago

to "North of Boston", French Guiana to Buenos Aires.



There is a certain division of voice in the first section of "Bird

Scarer", the "alert" poet taking in the atmosphere of a city where

the view from skyscrapers are,

". . .a tool invented to seduce angels into throwing / stones down

upon damned rooftops." and the man looking for employment.

Shining his shoes just to go to the library or the art museum.

With an almost split personality, the speaker is both an adult

with a job and is an unquiet youth running loose in the city:

"There is the sugar rush of / leaving work and undoing / one’s

tie on an unraveling / street."



In the poem, "Class Wars", the speaker is an infiltrator in the

"High-art" world, stealing into exhibit openings in "SuHu

(SoHo transplanted to corn country)".

The art openings are seen as being less about the art and more

about the artist, "Discreetly visible", in "Expensively pensive

clothing.",( black, of course ) and about making a sale. "The

cheese was often / cut into cubes as if cubism, at last,

/ was profitable." Sheldon concludes:



"The wine spurred us

to fall in love with the neon of streetlights,

the shine on mouths with lipstick or

offers of the wrong kisses. And the art?

In a city rich from hanging meat, it

hung there. It was for the wealthy

to steal away from constipated drunks."



While the first section tackles relocation and the inertia of trying t

o assimilate to new surroundings, the second section introduces

an existentialism. In "Evasive Summer", the last line asks,

"Is Earth the only/ planet where dreams can harm?" The

speaker watches his stoned neighbors cavorting in an above-g

round pool. Though vicariously, at the same time watching

with exhilaration. Calling it, "The Fall of Troy as puppet-theater"

as they,". . .touch each / others scars."

The poems here are presented with a roving eye that virtually

wishes to be somewhere else or apart of what is being observed,

however continuing a keen sense for every detail.



"North of Boston" is the speaker’s account of a "family

tradition",driving with his family to view other families’

Christmas lights. The competing neighbors, no doubt vying for t

he attention with their, "bright attempts to turn /

the manger into a mystery, Off-Broadway." Sheldon continues:



"Angels gather into barber shop quartets.

We look for the lights to make us say, Ah.



I look for the Atlantic lights farther out, heading

south. Cuba? Argentina? Ah."



In section three, "Geography of Desire" the speaker finally casts

off his necktie that only became undone in the first section.

There are many poems worthy of citation that the reader will

have to experience themselves. Holding true to the title, the

poems here involve an eroticism, both for flesh and for

landscapes. All the while the voice of the writer is there.

"Borrowed Horoscope: San Juan" presents that

voice of the writer with strength:

. . . "My journal says Romans were

our first tourists, that souvenirs were



the only proof that they didn’t spend

their last years in prisons. I write just



to look at the splendor of my penmanship,

the Caribbean waves crashing inside comfort



rented by the week." . . .



Throughout "Bird Scarer, Sheldon effortlessly glides from

couplets to triplets, then to quatrains without loosing the story.

Most poetic forms can be the death of a good story, in my opinion.

Though Sheldon has developed both story and form

alongside each other in "Bird Scarer".

These are the words of an uprooted soul, finding transplantation

and a temp job in Chicago, finally regaining a new

consciousness in abstract horizons where,

"My notebooks fill up with zodiacs /

in temporarily strange skies." ("In Nicaragua, Again")

THE SPLINTERED FACE: TSUNAMI POEMS by Indran Amirthanayagam

THE SPLINTERED FACE: TSUNAMI POEMS
By Indran Amirthanayagam
Hanging Loose Press, 2008
Price $16.00 ISBN 978-1931236-82-9

Review by Richard Wilhelm
http://www.richardwilhelm.blogspot.com

More than 225,000 human lives were lost on Dec. 26th 2004 when one of the worst tsunamis in history brought destruction to the coastlines of Indonesia, Thailand, the northwestern coast of Malaysia, Bangladesh, India, Sri Lanka, and the Maldives. Even Somalia, Kenya, and Tanzania in eastern Africa felt the effects. The death toll was the equivalent of approximately 52 September 11ths occurring on one day. Sri Lanka lost approximately 35,000. Indran Amirthanayagam’s collection of poems memorializes those lost and gives voice to the survivors of this incomprehensible tragedy in powerful evocative images. In the preface, he writes:
“It was the day after Christmas, Boxing Day, and they were sleepy-eyed, and unaware of the ominous signs, a sea receding revealing hundreds of fish gasping for air, brackish, angry water, and animals scurrying for higher ground, birds flying inland. On the Andaman Islands some people still close to birds and beasts picked up the signals and headed for safety. They were a drop literally in the sea’s bucket.”
He speaks of “the ones who picked up huge fish and dashed for shore delighted at their luck,” not guessing that moments later would come a catastrophe of Biblical proportions. Amirthanayagam, along with bearing witness, cannot help but ask questions as well. In the first poem of the collection, “Face”, he asks:

“How shall we greet
the orphan boy,
the husband whose hand
slipped, children
and wife swept away?

and:

“but what if the ocean
were innocent,
the tectonic plates
innocent, what if God
were innocent?

In “Century” he describes the tsunami as a

five-hundred-mile-
an-hour knife
hurtling towards
our island
to gash and gut
the coast, unearth
childhood treasures
and landmines

popped out
for public display
in the silt and mud
the tsunami’s
gift and curse,
psychotherapy
instant and forced
for you the survivor
who lives on---

Amirthanayagam documents the sufferings of various individuals and gives them a voice, persons such as Chinnathambi, the body builder who tried to swim with his wife and mother-in-law clinging to his neck until he hit a wall and was knocked unconscious. He woke to find his family lost.

And does he think:
Who will say Dada now?
Who will care for me
when I grow old and cannot
lift a woman with my leg,
or 330 pounds of cement?
My sons and wife
must have thought
my strength would save them;
“King Kong”

In the poem “Bill,” the speaker observes:

“Something strange

is happening to the sea,” a man
shouted. “We are going to die.”
I rushed to the window,
the whole bay had emptied
and shoals of huge fish
were flapping and gasping
on the bed. -----

In “Eyewitness,” Amirthanayagam calls the sea “an angry bugger, sleeping monster, murderer,” but adds:

blind, brutal, blood-
thirsty, but she is
our mother;
we are islanders;
she has fed,
circled,
brooded us,
let our boats

come and go,----

Indran Amirthanayagam is a poet and essayist whose first collection of poems “Elephants of Reckoning” won the 1994 Paterson Poetry Prize. He was born in Sri Lanka and is a member of the United States Foreign Service. “The Splintered Face,” his second book published in the US, paints haunting images in well-crafted rhythms. It is a deeply moving book, highly recommended especially for those of us who, unlike the Andaman Islanders, are no longer close to birds and beasts, no longer picking up the signals. A portion of the proceeds from the sale of the book are donated to tsunami relief.


-- Richard Wilhelm

Interview with poet Mark Doty: A poet who goes from “Fire to Fire.”

Interview with poet Mark Doty: A poet who goes from “Fire to Fire.”

When a publicist from Harper Collins in New York City emailed to see if I wanted to review Mark Doty’s new poetry collection: “Fire to Fire,” I was on it like the proverbial hornet. Doty is high on the top shelf of American poets, a winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, a Whiting Writers Award and the U.K’s T.S. Eliot Prize. His poetry has appeared in the American Poetry Review, Ploughshare, Prairie Schooner, and many other well-regarded literary journals. He has received fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation, the National Endowment of the Arts, the Ingram-Merrill Foundation, as well as the Center for Scholars and Writers at the New York Public Library. In his new collection Doty peppers his work with beautiful studied images, and haunting apparitions he spies in the most unlikely of places. Doty has an astute ear for music, he can smell death’s most subtle odor, and he can explain to you what you have been just dying to articulate. To be honest, few of the poetry books I get to review are dyed-in-the-wool page turners. But Doty’s is hands down. I interviewed Doty recently for The Somerville News.








Doug Holder: You were an army brat moving from one place to the other. Did that transience early on make you want to get that image on the permanent page?




Mark Doty: I really had transience drummed into me -- by my grandparents' apocalyptic Protestantism, and the hymns we used to sing on the porch, and what seems to have been a built-in obsession with mortality. And because we moved all the time, it's true that people and places were always being left behind.

DH: Ghosts are a presence in your poems. Do you feel that you are haunted? Is that a good thing for a poet?

MD: I do want my poems to hold conversation with the dead -- both my own and the great dead whose poems I love.
It's an inescapable thing for a poet, because how can you not speak back to the poets who've mattered most to you, who've taught you to see and to speak?

DH: Saul Bellow considered himself a writer who happened to be Jewish. Do you consider yourself a poet who happens to be Gay?

MD: I like to steal a line from Lucille Clifton, who says, "I do not happen to be black, I AM black." Same-sex desire lives right near the core of me. But what that has to do with being a poet is complex. It doesn't mean that my poems must always focus on
sexual life, or on the cultural conditions in which gay men live. But it does mean that my sexuality is part of my subjectivity, and inescapably shapes how I see.

DH: Your partner Wally Roberts died of AIDS. Many of your poems address this. Do you view “Illness as a metaphor?

MD: Other people made it so -- AIDS as a token of sexual shame, or punishment for transgression. HIV's a virus, and we surround it, as we do a select group of diseases, with meanings. I have yet to find any of the ways we try to make HIV disease "mean" to be helpful. But I've wanted to at least give form to my experience with Wally, and with our friends and neighbors, during the terrible crisis years of the late 80s and early 90s. That's part of what you described above as being haunted. What can you do for the dead but keep their stories, or name them?

DH: I noticed your second volume of poems was “Bethlehem in Broad Daylight” was published by David R. Godine, Inc., a fine small press here in Boston. I awarded Godine an Ibbetson Street Press Life Time Achievement Award a few years back for his contributions to poetry and the small press. How was it working with Godine? Do you think the small press plays an important role in the development of poetic talent?

MD: Godine published my first two books, and I'm forever grateful for that. The press took a chance on an unknown poet and produced beautiful volumes. I don't think poets need think about smaller presses as just places to start out. A trade house isn't necessarily the best place to wind up; books can get lost in the shuffle, and frequently do not remain in print. The loyalty and resources of a more specialized literary press often serve our art better than the big houses do -- though I have been very fortunate in this regard.


DH: Your poetry is accessible. I don’t think you need an academic bent to get something out of your work. Obviously this has not hurt you in the poetry biz. Do you think a lot of poetry being written today is deliberately obtuse?

MD: It’s a very large and capacious house, American poetry. I have no desire for everyone to work in the same way. What interests me most is the individuality and vivacity of a voice, a way of seeing and speaking the world. So there are poets I love who are very plain-spoken (like Marie Howe) and poets I love whose work makes a different set of demands on the reader (Brenda Hillman or Jean Valentine). I don't think either transparency or opacity are virtues in themselves. They're just ways of speaking. What matters is what you do with them.

DH: In the poem “Almost Blue” in your new collection “Fire to Fire” (Harper Collins) you write of the beautiful and doomed jazz musician Chet Baker. In the poem you imagine Baker’s swan song which is composed of nodding out and falling out a hotel window in Amsterdam:

“ and you leaning into that warm
haze from the window, Amsterdam,
late afternoon glimmer
a blur of buds.

Breathing in the lindens
And you let go and why not.”

Is this acceptance of things as they are, what is, is; something you try to get across in your work?

MD: Baker was a heroin addict for something like 28 years, so you could see that as a very long slow letting go. He fell from a hotel window in Amsterdam, maybe nodded out, maybe jumped. I wanted, in this poem; to try to lean into the feeling of addiction, into that state of mind that just says Oh, let me go, let it all go. What I want to admire, you know, is the Chet Baker who made all that incredible art, who kept producing that stunning music. But there's something about the toxic pull of addiction, of the poison -- you know, the deep allure of that. Acceptance? I don't know. Sometimes yes. Then sometimes I think you should resist with all your might.







At the Gym



This salt-stain spot

marks the place where men

lay down their heads,

back to the bench,



and hoist nothing

that need be lifted

but some burden they've chosen

this time: more reps,



more weight, the upward shove

of it leaving, collectively,

this sign of where we've been:

shroud-stain, negative



flashed onto the vinyl

where we push something

unyielding skyward,

gaining some power



at least over flesh,

which goads with desire,

and terrifies with frailty.

Who could say who's



added his heat to the nimbus

of our intent, here where

we make ourselves:

something difficult



lifted, pressed or curled,

Power over beauty,

power over power!

Though there's something more



tender, beneath our vanity,

our will to become objects

of desire: we sweat the mark

of our presence onto the cloth.



Here is some halo

the living made together.


--Mark Doty

Mark Doty will be reading from his collection "Fire to Fire" March 19 7PM 79 Harvard Street Brookline Booksmith



DOUG HOLDER

Fire to Fire: New and Selected Poems. Mark Doty.

Fire to Fire: New and Selected Poems. Mark Doty. (Harper Collins-2008) $23.


Mark Doty is not only a poet’s poet. Thank God. Doty is an accomplished writer, the winner of the National Book Critics Award, Los Angeles Times Book Prize, and is the only American winner of Britain’s T.S. Eliot Prize. But in spite of these accolades, we barbarians outside of the gates of the Academy can be thoroughly engaged and enamored with his latest collection: “Fire to Fire: New and Selected Poems.”

Some years ago a friend of mine the poet Richard Wilhelm took a workshop with Doty at the Cambridge Center for Adult Education, in Cambridge, Mass. He said Doty emphasized the need to avoid neat, pat, endings. He wanted his students to “stretch” their work. In this time of frenzied movement he wanted his students to “sit” with their poems.

And indeed this seems what Doty has done as evidenced by his brilliant new collection. His work is peppered with beautiful, studied images; with haunting apparitions spotted in the most unlikely of places. Doty has an astute ear for music, which makes for a wonderful musicality in his work. He can smell death’s most subtle odor, and he can explain to you what your inarticulate rage is all about. How many poetry books can we really call page-turners? But this book is in the truest sense.

In a stunning poem about the late “Cool” jazz horn player Chet Baker, Doty’s musical language captures the brutal and beautiful texture of Baker’s life and art. Baker, a naturally gifted musician, with a hauntingly, angelic voice, was also a dyed-in-the wool heroin addict and psychopath. He met his end by nodding out of a hotel window in Amsterdam. In Doty’s poem “Almost Blue,” we have Baker’s swan song, and the poet encapsulates the man, his elegiac music, his lyrics, and his drugged-out Zen-like acceptance of what life brings:

“ in the warm suspension and glaze
of this song everything stays up

almost forever in the long
glide sung into the vein,

one note held almost impossibly
almost blue and the lyric takes so long

to open, a little blood
blooming: there’s no love song finer

but how strange the change
from major to minor

every time
we say goodbye

and you leaning into that warm
haze from the window, Amsterdam,

late afternoon glimmer
a blur of buds

breathing in the lindens
and you let go and why not.”

And speaking of inarticulate rage, and lives of quiet desperation, have you ever thought why you become inordinately angry with some of the daily outrages you encounter on the street? In the poem “Citizens,” Doty is almost swiped by a truck on a Manhattan street. The truck driver smiles as Doty yells his indignant invective in his direction. Doty ponders why he carries the burden of anger so long after the fact:

“ and I am carrying the devil
in his carbon chariot all the way to 23rd, down into the subway,
roiling against the impersonal malice of the truck that armors
him

so he doesn’t have to know anyone.
Under the Port Authority I understand I’m raging
because that’s easier than weeping, not because I’m so afraid

of scraping my skull
on the pavement but because he’s made me erasable,
a slip of self, subject to. How’d I get emptied

till I can be hostaged
by a dope in a flaming climate-wrecker? I try to think
who made him so powerless he craves dominion over strangers,

but you know what?
I don’t care. If he’s one of those people miserable for lack
of what is found in poetry, fine.”

Yes—that it’s Mr. Doty. You have got it down. It’s what I meant to say. It is what I meant to write.

This is one of the most brilliant collections I have reviewed in years, and I am sent a lot of them. I don’t care if you are gay or straight, have a Rockefeller Grant, or food stamps, Doty speaks to us all, baby.

Doug Holder/ Ibbetson Update/ Somerville, Mass /2008


* Om Monday March 19 7PM Doty will be reading at the Brookline Booksmith 279 Harvard Street.

Ed Galing Tribute in May Issue of Quercus Review

Sam Pierstorff, the editor of the Quercus Review, will be reprinting my Ed Galing article in Rattle Magazine "Ed Galing: A Poet of the Greatest Generation" in the May issue. The issue will be a tribute to this 90 year old small press legend.

www.quercusreview.com

Check out Ed's Blog http://www.edgaling.blogspot.com

Times Leaves by Barbara Bialick Reviewed by Luke Salisbury

Times Leaves by Barbara Bialick
reviewed by Luke Salisbury
( Ibbetson Press, 2007)

Poets, it seems, will not give a book of poetry a bad review. The poetry world seems to be one happy family, as opposed to the fiction jungle where firing out a bad review can be a badge of honor and taste, or as Bob Dylan once put it, "Your loss is my gain."

I'm not a poet, so my praise for Barbara Bialick's Time Leaves, comes from the jungle, not the communal smiley face. This is a fine little book. Ms. Bialick writes from the heart of the Baby Boom generation. Her concerns are aging, peace, remembering the worlds of parents and grandparents, Israel, divorce, Detroit. The insights, and fine,clean, language, are clear-sighted, never warped by nostalgia, bitterness or self-pity.

In "'Good Shabbes' Sestina," after being warned by her grandmother not to waste time watching My Friend Flicka (That's the heart of a 1950s childhood and a lousy show as I recall), the poet and her brother "head from our grandparents' den to the room of Yiddish, smell the Maxwell House coffee, "sit at an olden, carved wood table from another time," and sense "the sepia ghosts of my great grandparents."

"I swear I hear an old Siberian train whistle.

With an anxious hiss, I whistle
at the weirdness of aging and time."

"Detroit For Sale, 1960s" describes the poet's reaction to her neighborhood moving from the city to the suburbs. This happened en masse after the riots in '67 and '68.

"Outside the window;
'for sale signs' like cemetery stones,
from one house to the next."

"I'm scared of the new German shepard, in chains
in the garage next-door.

I'm not supposed to go outside alone.
I feel like a prisoner...
Just then, the dog in chains, begins to howl...."

There's allot in these seemingly simple lines. The fear, white-flight, new guard dog, the poet's feelings, the death of a certain urban way of life in the wake of violence and neighborhoods turning Black--it's not a simple or pleasant story, but it's here in this seemingly simple poem. Like many of Ms. Bialick's poems, there's depth and craft behind the apparent simplicity.

Time Leaves is a whistle at the weirdness of aging and time. And a fine whistle, indeed. Its tunes are tunes we all whistle. And tunes we shall all hear.

This book should be read and read again. A life has been distilled here.

Enjoy.

* Luke Salisbury is a professor of English at Bunker Hill Community College in Boston.

The Dark Side of the Diamond:The Dark Side of the Diamond by Roger I. Abrams

Baseball’s Sordid Past, Shaky Present


The Dark Side of the Diamond
Gambling, Violence, Drugs and Alcoholism in the National Pastime
by Roger I. Abrams
Rounder Books, 2007, $24.95, Hardbound, ISBN -13:978-1-57940-156-6

Review by Zvi A. Sesling

Hall of Fame baseball players who have been held up as icons for America’s youth are, in fact, among the very flawed. Roger Clemens, Mark McGwire, Rafael Palmeiro and other diamond legends whose images are dropping faster than a Dice-K splitter are just the latest in a long line of racists, cheaters, alcoholics and gamblers, not to mention fighters.

Adrian (Cap) Anson, according to author Roger I. Abrams, is single handedly responsible for the segregation baseball endured from the 1880s until 1947 when Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier. Anson had it put in his contract that his teams would not have to take the field against black ballplayers. As a result, before Robinson broke the color line
Moses Fleetwood Walker was the last black to play major league baseball.

Abrams also notes that it wasn’t long after baseball became more or less organized that gambling began, as did game fixing, in which players deliberately threw games in order to make more money. Gamblers were often in the seats yelling out bets and even sending or receiving signals from ballplayers. Abrams lays out a picture that makes Pete Rose seem like a piker compared to late 19th and early 20th century ball players, and there are plenty of Hall of Fame players who placed bets. It wasn’t until Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis banned the 1919 Black Sox from baseball that a lid was finally put on gambling.

But nothing stopped fighting or alcoholism. Ty Cobb was one of the best known battlers, once going into the stands to pummel a disabled fan, while two of baseball’s greatest heroes, Babe Ruth and Mickey Mantle were notorious for their affinity for alcohol.

Abrams, who is a professor of law at Northeastern University and a Major League Baseball salary arbitrator for more than 20 years, lays out baseball’s entire dark underside with the passion of a true fan, the eye of a lawyer and the knowledge of a real insider.

If you think the Clemens affair is something new, read this book. It will educate you about often bizarre attempts to enhance athletic ability, from gross concoctions to testosterone (find out where it came from) to early steroids.

Abrams covers not only gambling and steroids, but drugs and alcoholism, including Pete Browning’s statement that “I can’t hit the ball unless I hit the bottle.” Babe Ruth’s exploits with the bottle are also visited, as is Mickey Mantle’s ultimately fatal encounters with booze.


Amphetamines, recreational drugs, cocaine, heroin and even LSD are all covered – Pittsburgh pitcher Dock Ellis is quoted revealing that he couldn’t remember pitching his no-hitter because he was high on LSD.

Abrams shows how the history of baseball is a microcosm of American society not only with gambling, but regarding drugs, alcoholism and violence.

Abrams was given access to 25,000 documents by the Baseball Hall of Fame. He has made excellent use of them with a sharp eye for facts and a keen sense of selection.

If you are interested in more than the myths circling around baseball, The Dark Side of the Diamond is a must read.

*Zvi Sesling is a member of the "Bagel Bards," and the winner of the International Reuben Rose Poetry Award-- 2007.

Timothy Gager Reads in NYC

Live Video see below:

Boston area poet Timothy Gager read recently in New York City for his soon to be released book from the Cervena Barva Press " This is where you go when you're gone." Click on the highlighted title above, (Tim Gager Reads in NYC) click on slamming poets and then put Timothy Gager in the search bar. Tim read at the Saturn Reading Series in New York recently.

Firmament by Kathleen L. Housley

Firmament

Kathleen L. Housley

Higganum Press Inc.

$12.95

ISBN 978-0-9776556-3-2



Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Firmament by Kathleen L. Housley


Firmament

Kathleen L. Housley

Higganum Press Inc.

$12.95

ISBN 978-0-9776556-3-2



Kathleen Housley opens with”The Magi,” a poem that takes me back to a biblical time in recollecting the Christ child and gifts of the Magi. Then it brings me to the present day. She is skillful in time travel and writes with daunting imagery. In the “Ravine of the roan horse,” “… lightning blasts a single tree. Like closed pine cones, our hearts burst open in the heat!” A miracle observed in the present. We could not be more astonished if a star slipped from the night to hover here beyond the dawn. She plays with the theme of the extraordinary in the ordinary and does it successfully. I amsurprised to find I am a time rider myself.



Again in “The Pharisees Confront Jesus In the Court of Caiphas” She bringsJesus to the present day and presents moral questions of our time. She asks Jesus if he would have taken the path to death if he knew the world wouldn't Change: “Would you take the road to the place of skulls if you knew for sure that the world will be no better for your death?” And yet in the conclusionshe brings up hope: “Who can tell. Love may echo through the silence of your last cry.”



The poet is in touch with the spirit world in a way that is fresh and
unusual. How many of us have at one time or another felt we were saved bygrace but couldn't put into words our feeling of gratitude. She does this in Strange Grace. In the poem, mountain climbers in a dangerous circumstanceare saved by inexplicable grace, not merely by skill or luck: “..but in thismoment of clear, high light, as we study where we have been, we are awed by the other tracing in the snow, near to our steps , as if of wings. An outdoor person and seeker , I can relate to this sense of the miraculous.



Finally I want to bring attention to the juxtaposition of the fractal images
and the poems in this collection and the resulting powerful meaning from the interweaving of science and poetry. I am fascinated. In some part of my mind I have been searching for this connection. In “The Speed of Light” is an astonishing vision of truth . Once again the poet uses the horse image as in the opening poem in this collection.: “The horse rides into a landscape of light, including the glimmer in memory condensate of a luminous horse slowing near the crest to whinny at the stars.” I am left with a sense of old-fashioned wonder.

Barbara Thomas. Barbara Thomas is a published poet and a member of the "Bagel Bards."

LO GALLUCCIO AND SQUAWK POET RICHARD CAMBRIDGE WILL HOST A TRIBUTE NIGHT TO LEONARD COHEN ON MARCH 13TH.

LO GALLUCCIO AND SQUAWK POET RICHARD CAMBRIDGE WILL HOST A TRIBUTE NIGHT TO LEONARD COHEN ON MARCH 13TH.

See details below!

Leonard Cohen Tribute Night: Songs of Love and Hate
Squawk Coffeehouse in the Harvard-Epworth Church
1555 Massachusetts Avenue, just outside Harvard Square
March 13th at 9pm $3- $5 donation

PERFORMERS INCLUDE:

Edrie of the Army of Broken Dolls/Ajda the Turkish Queen/Jme Caroline and his band/ Kevin O’Neil/James Christensen/Lo Galluccio/Lee Kidd/Portia Brockway/ Nathan Thompson/Ben Beckwith and others.

For pre-show sign up to perform one of Cohen’s songs, contact Lo at Lo747@hotmail.com. If you’d like to perform a poem from his works, including, “Spice box of the Earth” or “The Book of Longing” please come at 9 pm and sign up.


WE HOPE YOU’LL COME TO A SPECIAL SQUAWK EVENT TO HONOR THIS SEXY, MYSTICAL GENIUS OF LETTERS AND MUSIC.

WEE HOUR MARTYRDOM by Jason Tandon

WEE HOUR MARTYRDOM
Jason Tandon
Sunnyoutside publisher
ISBN; 978-1-934513-057
$13.00

in the beginning the young catch rays, throw them to
us and we throw those rays back. Jason Tandon causes
me to laugh, or my causal laughter, which ever way i’m
suppose to say this; the first few poems lift my young
spirit. his breezy way with his surreal images lend,
disarm me, an old crotchety woman often disgruntled by
youthful ’i am’s,’ I revel ate in his poem

"Untouchables”
…
an old woman’s rump
and the overfed birds
bored with all
her white bread.

my black molar.

“wee hour martyrdom” drives the reader into the
mystery of being, of being influenced by history,
personal as well as the history of a particular genre
of poetry. in this book I relate to the surreal images
and a more contemporary emphasis.

I built my Aztec temple without stairs
and Mrs Glover flunked me
I thought the gods just appeared
bursting from jags of light
head of a hawk, body of a man writhing with snakes

if your interested in an academic explanation, cadence
or whatever some reviewers write as they pull apart a
poem, verse by verse, I ain’t the one to tell you this
guy can write real well. even though I know you can
find whatever it is, to your liking, in his poetry.
I’ve long ago come to understand there is no
perfection. in Tandon’s poem, ‘interrogation,’ in the
first strophe, his own words explain my view of some
of his poetry.

the outdoor motion light triggers
and I stand illuminated
in a brilliant flood of white

his strength of understanding who and whereof that
white…sometimes I feel devoid of emotions and then I
read a poem like, ‘interrogation’ and a flood from my
own relationships rams my perspective, cracks the
mirror I view myself in every morning. the truth is he
is writing from all the influences that have
influenced him and has come to himself and in doing so
the reader enters his poetry like a ghost enters,
returns after ...

on page 71, close to the end, by the end, books
usually must end, ‘seeing the dead’ plunders us like
an old clock melting over all those toasted pieces of
white bread the young scoff down, then our self youth
shoots us with a plastic ray gun.

I heard their stiff backs cracking
as they arched themselves
for earthward dives

you will dive into this book and come out assured by
its’ refreshing, clean, nakedness.

Irene Koronas
reviewer
ibbetson street press
poetry editor
wilderness house literary review
www.whlreview.com