Poetry Channel #47
6/29/98
IN THIS EPISODE: Patricia Smith, Sofasurfing the Book, Sister Spit, Las Vegas, Albuquerque Poetry Festival, On the Road to Austin, Taylor Mali's Address Book, Greg Keith.
Hey everyone. I was taking a little break for a bit; the Poetry Channel & Information Network is a year old this week and I'm a year older. I tend to take my birthday badly, but thanks to the pals who sent happy. . . love you.
There's a bunch of new subscribers (you'd think I'd stop telling people about my bullshit but no. . .), so here's what the deal is with Poetry Channel. Umm, I'm off my rocker and people are curious to see what happens next. This thing metamorphs constantly; mostly I try to talk about writers and books, and poetry events and my problems. It's a little sick, but hardly anyone ever unsubscribes for some reason. (If you, however, would like to unsubscribe, go to poetry.about.com & click on the Poetry Channels link, bottom right front page. [Or if you're reading the Web version of this one, just click on "newsletter" from the list at the left of your screen right now.] This isn't for everyone, and it's dubious whether it's for anyone.) I'm still working on putting that, you know, positive spin on things.
Still here? Okay. . . .
The news about Patricia Smith (see Bob Holman's feature column) was extremely upsetting. The news spread like wildfire all over the country, besides being on the front page of the New York Times. I understand it also made tv news. Of all the transgressions, and man's constant inhumanity to man and all the daily shittiness, this news editor felt that what Patricia Smith did deserved front page coverage. Therein lies the destructive power of the press. And discretion? Oh yeah, right.
Do you think newspapers operate on some high moral ground? You think the media always gets the story right? They would like to think so, I'm sure, but they only delude themselves. I think newspaper editors for the most part are dull and removed from the communities they purport to serve. (Is it about the advertisers or the readers? Making a buck or serving the community? Is it about being the best writer/artist/photographer or are you making the mortgage? You know, the two aren't mutually exclusive. . . .)
And hypocrites to boot; while they were printing yellow ribbons around their front pages, my own newsroom polls indicated the majority of male staffers were college exempted during the Vietnam War draft. (How dare anyone advocate sending someone to war when they themselves were unwilling to go. How dare anyone advocate sending anyone to war, but I'm not old enough to understand the world war mentality, just old enough to remember the nightly tally of casualties.)
Anyway, I'm saying I'm sorry that Patricia Smith was made an example of in such a manner. I think she deserved better.
So, gosh, I didn't really get a chance to finish telling you about my New Mexico adventure. I wanted to say thanks to Joel Matthews and Kenn Rodriguez for the hospitality. I had a great time reading with Eirean Bradley and Ken Hunt at Nob Hill Books and Music. (I barely got in -- never ever fly standby on a Saturday.) A lot of folks showed up, including the city attorney and fellow poet, Bob White; Danny Solis couldn't make it but he dropped off flowers.
We had drinks at Martini Grill after that. It felt good to be home, a little weird because I've been gone so long, there's a huge group of people I don't even know. Umm, cities are like that. We went to the Launch Pad to see Rocket from the Crypt. The show was being promoted by Deanna Douglass and Joe Anderson. Punk rock god Joey Abbin was in from North Carolina (he's moving to Austin with Dr. John); Liar frontman and former roommate Eric McFadden was in from San Francisco; Shauna Sunrise was in from Chicago (she's going to the Art Institute -- I have a hat of hers made of pantyhose) and her cousin Lynda is building her own house on the mesa. The bouncer was another old roomie, Steve Eiland. He has a new band, I can't remember what the name is. Last time I saw him on a stage, he was wearing a red corset and not much else. We used to live together at the dog shit house. Another former roomie, Robert Bennett, was behind the bar and Ziggy the manager had a night off and was drinking at the bar. Dan Weiss says he's moving to Portland. Andrea Merkx keeps promising to sublet from me, or at least visit. I hope so, the guys from Halo keep asking about her.
What a happy reunion; none of the new school knew what to make of it, and I wished I had a camera but I never develop the pictures anyway. Robert Masterson was developing some old film the other day and came up with a mystery batch of pictures which he finally concluded must be my photos from my Alaska trip, what, eight or nine years ago, from the days of living in his basement.
Many of these characters make an appearance in my Sofasurfing Handbook.* It's going to the printer's this week, so hopefully it'll be out by Nationals. I'm crossing my fingers. Ken Hunt and Sean Shea are sleeping on my couch as I write this.
Michelle Tea's new book is supposed to be out this fall as well, through New York press Semiotext(e). She and Sister Spit had their tour kickoff last night (the lineup includes Beth Lisick and Lynn Breedlove) at the Elbo Room. They head to Las Vegas on July 4 at Enigma Garden Café and the Double Down, home of the notorious drink known as Ass Juice, on July 5.
And just what is ass juice, you ask? I think it's prune juice and vodka.
Team Las Vegas heads to Portland for their Salmon Slam on July 25. Dayvid Figler sent me news but he didn't tell me who the team is. He's busy these days, defending alleged murderers and honing his role as Doors frontman Jim Morrison in an upcoming one-man show.
I guess I'm the head of the committee gearing up the Albuquerque Poetry Festival. Basically, this means we're going juried, folks. So please send a letter of interest to me plus three poems. The festival happens the third week in February.
But right now, of course, I'm into the Nationals. I had a week to sleep and now it's time to move on. We're going to make 45 teams this year. Austin is the place to be, even if you aren't on a team. I hope everyone has sent their registration $ in. I don't care but rules is rules (and we do need to finance this show). Meanwhile, I'm building a three-pronged attack during the daytime, through Mojo's coffeehouse, huge indie Bookpeople down the street and Fringeware, a bookstore after my own heart next door to Mojo's. It's going to be quite delightful; my cohorts are very excited about the festivities. So far, book parties are being hosted by Manic D, 2.13.61, Incommunicado and Soft Skull. Daytime shows include a daily open mic, the haiku slam, Firestorm, the rap slam, Night of the Chihuahua, the prop slam, a gay and lesbian showcase, panel discussions, and there's more. . . .
I need volunteers for the daytime program. Also, if you want to have a booksigning party or renegade reading or head-to-head grudge match bout, I can recommend some bookstores and storefronts that have indicated interest. Let's keep the lines of communication open.
Some people are already asking about the merch table this year. Well, that's what I'm doing during the night. I plan on having one large merch table set up at Electric Lounge; if I have enough hands and wheels I'll set up tables at the other venues.
[My advice: leave half your chapbooks at the merch table, keep half to trade with poet pals. Otherwise, you'll trade all your chapbooks (I know you people are generous) and you won't have any margarita money. Also, it's easier sometimes if someone else is selling your books. The public will want to take a little bit of you home with you -- I strongly encourage making chapbooks for the occasion. Don't charge more than $5.]
For some reason, I'm still tired. Sorry if I haven't been keeping up with all the correspondence. I don't mean it personally, I'm just swimming in a sea of email. I'm still not online. . . perhaps this week.
Please send stuff you'd think I'd like to sofasurf@usa.net. Or if it's urgent, look for me at lastgasp@hooked.net.
TEAMS HEADING TO THE NATIONAL POETRY SLAM CHAMPIONSHIPS (Austin, August 19-22):
- Albuquerque: Kenn Rodriguez, Danny Solis, Matthew John Conley, Eirean Bradley
- San Francisco: Tarin Towers, Omolara, Eirik Ott, Russell Gonzaga (alternate: Cas McGee)
- Portland: Jeff Myers, John Dooley, Frank D'Andrea, Robert Hibberd
- Montreal: Alexis O'Hara, Johnny Cheesecake, Dayna McLeod, Debbie Young
- Ann Arbor: Kim Webb, Steve Marsh, Dan Jacobs, Lyn Coffin
- Nuyorican: Kayo, Stephen Colman, Guy LeCharles Gonzalez, Alix Olson
- Worchester: Kyria Abrahams, Dave Eye, Ed Fuqua, Bill McMillan
- Providence: Laura Moran, Sage, Dave Blank, Dawn Gabriel and (playing the alternate) Jessie Simmons
- Detroit: Saladin Ahmed, Scott Klein, Sonya Pouncy, Renee Tambeau
- Missouri: Michael Hoerman, Brian Cole, Pam Postal, Mark Sweet
- Arkansas: Brenda Moosey, Lisa Martinovich, Pat Jackson, Bob Haslam
- Fargo: Charles Hinton, James Walsh, Lyska Janecek, Robb Ryan Q. Thibault
Taylor Mali wrote to say he's compiling an address book for the slam teams attending Nationals. Sign up, what the hell, what do you have to lose?
Aimee Cass wrote in with this news:
Greg Keith, Santa Cruz poet and just general extraordinary person, died after a brutal battle with cancer on June 8, 1998. You can visit his website and read his cancer journal, written over the last year plus poetry by Greg and by friends for Greg. You can also view portions of his recently released book Life Near 310 Kelvin; there are audio files to be enjoyed, info to order the book, etc. The site is beautiful, mostly because Greg shines all over it.
Thanks, Aimee. David Huang was just talking about Greg Keith yesterday. I have to go now and make an extra house key for Ken and Sean. (Wammo ran off with the spare, but I have the spares to Noel Franklin's place in Seattle and Matt Conley's place in Albuquerque.) I'm opening for Sean Shea and Eirik Ott at the Adobe Books reading sponsored by 9x9 writer's collective on Thursday. I'm a last minute add on, no worries here, I'm just honored to be asked to read. No, really.
Well, gotta go.
xox
juliette torrez
WEDNESDAY, JULY 1
10 - 11 pm EDT (7 - 8 pm PDT)
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Discussing Slam, Patricia Smith, and What the Hell is Performance Poetry anyway?
*As a result of a commercial relationship between About.com, its Guides and Amazon.com online booksellers, this title can be purchased directly from Amazon.com by following the link above. (Note: Amazon.com is solely responsible for fulfillment of book orders placed through this link.)
