In Conversation

Amatoritsero Ed interviews Vehicule Press's Big Kahuna, Simon Dardick.

Sunday Poem

FROM A LINE OF DARIO

"da al viento la cabellera"

With no dissenting votes

we gave to the wind her hair.

It brushes your cheeks,

now it brushes mine.

To the bee and to

the hummingbird:

her breasts.

We envy them the sweetness

that will be gathered there.

To the ocean belong

both her feet.

They will become

two inseparable

incredible fish

who may come out to leave

strange prints

beckoning bachelors

to walk out to sea.

We give the ocean

both her feet

and we warn you.

Many claimed her hands:

A tree wanted them

for fruit that would

be eager, for fruit

that would not wait.

A flock of birds

petitioned for her hands

claiming poetic justice

would be served were

the feet in the water

to be echoed by

the hands in the air.

We agree with this logic;

give instead to the tree

her ears

that it may hear itself

stretch and grow.

From The Invention of Honey (1990) by Ricardo Sternberg.

"Jane, Jane, tall as a crane"

Harriet gathers up some responses to Richard Greene's new Edith Sitwell bio.

Saturday Poem

JUST IRENA

You died at the muddy end
of a rutted drive
near a mill pond—
thirsty,

and you died unkempt
as your blueberry patch
where I used to kneel,
eating my fill.

You died
perfumed with cat piss
and mouldy hay,

without a man
to hitch up a plow
or pick up a hammer.

The wind
undid your shingles
one by one
undressing you,

and the roof
came down
around you,

and you died
with crows in your hair
and rain in your mouth
and wind in the chimney.

Fires went out
windows broke
and mice even now
eat the straw in your cot.

From Rue Saint Famille (1990) by Charlotte Hussey.

The "It" Kid

Michael Lista raves over Linda Besner's The Id Kid. I'm delighted that he mentions nearly all the themes that drove our decision-making during the editorial process (life as performance, self as artifice, confession as mask-wearing). It's always nice to have a reviewer point out undetected patterns in the carpet. But it's especially satisfying when a reviewer sees exactly what you hoped he would see.

Northern Poetry Review

April was the five-year mark for the online lit mag NPR, founded and edited by Alex Boyd. They've just updated the site with new material, including an interview with Giller-winner Johanna Skibsrud and poems by Linda Besner from her first book The Id Kid. Also on offer is Jacob McArthur Mooney's review of four chapbooks by Cactus Press. I was sent these titles last year, and enjoyed them, and fully intended to blog about them. Alas, life intervened. So I'm happy that NPR is giving the books some deserved attention (you can shop for them here). My favourite poets in the group were Marc di Saverio and Sarah Teitel (photo above). In fact, Teitel's poems so impressed me that I'm happy to announce her first book will be appearing with us in the very near future.

Once a Pratt, Always a Pratt

Patrick Warner wins the E..J. Pratt Poetry Award -- for the second time.

UPDATE: Here is the jury's citation:

“Patrick Warner’s Mole noses its way into the domestic and the unobserved, needles each “numb spot,” and coaxes the strange from the mundane. Warner transforms routine into formal ingenuity and our mass obsessions and accumulations into his metaphoric bonfire. While he eschews the grand and romantic, Warner remains the authentic artisan. His language is avid and alight, his ironies wicked and pitch perfect. If it was difficult to imagine a suburban poetry that could matter, then Warner imagines it for us. Crafty, civic, human – amidst the community walls, by-laws, and sprawl – Mole sniffs out signs of life and brings back news of ourselves.”