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Monday, January 31, 2022

New Poems: John D. Robinson



CARNAGE

Have you not heard me?

crying, screeching

and pleading!

Have you not seen me?

in the mirror? upon the

streets?

have you not felt me

in the brightest and 

darkest of times?

did you not bury me?

time and again

only then to witness my

shadow rise like the

desperate carnage of

hope,

that we have scattered

carelessly

into ancient colours.

 

 

 

 

 

DIDN’T SEE THAT COMING

My father dead at 45, death

by alcohol and prescription 

drugs misadventure,

his spiteful wife followed

two years later by the same

M.O:

I didn’t see that coming,

the 3 or 4 times of

catching my dick in my

trouser zipper

or catching my hair or

beard on fire whilst firing

up a joint:

didn’t see that coming,

a beautiful daughter

who has given us 3 

angelic grandchildren,

and all the animal

friends throughout my

life,

I didn’t see that coming,

a ghost-child abortion

into which I was too weak

to resist:

of becoming

Holy&intoxicated

with books,

of making it this far,

of drowning beautifully

in other worldly cultures,

of being in awe of nature

and in the beauty and the 

shame of

the human-nature,

didn’t see that coming,

and neither

did this poem.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CRUMBLED AND TANGLED

She is there,

somewhere,

as the days

crumble into

tangled years:

so long ago

loitering within,

I don’t know if

she is

still alive

or how she is

getting through

this life:

it’s hard to

dismiss pain,

I know

we both felt this

and maybe

this poem

will finally

pardon

the guilt of

us

both.

Sunday, January 30, 2022

New Release: Bill Gainer A TRUE STORY: Used Poems, 2003-2021 (Spartan Press, Kansas City, 2021) 236 pages

 

American poet Bill Gainer’s latest book A True Story collects in one volume 171 of his previously published short poems from his classics including ‘Roxy’ (2003), ‘The Mysterious Woman Next Door’ (2008), ‘Louisiana Calling’ (2013), ‘Lipstick and Bullet Holes’ (2014), ‘The Mysterious Book of Old Man Poems’ (2017) & others. He  also throws into the mix at the end of the book 25 poems from his latest material.



In his ‘Author’s Notes’ at the beginning of the book, Gainer explains:

 

“When the folks at Spartan Press asked to do a book

of selected poems, I jumped. My only question was 

short poems? Their reply- yes. So here we are,

call them what you want: American Haiku, Minimal

Poems, whatever. I prefer short poems- it’s easy.

 

“I have long believed the short poem is the hardest

poem to write. The author must get in and get out,

while saying something beyond a journal entry on

the way. Yes, the short poem is written with intent,

depth of thought, economy of words, and in the

tightest of packages. Waste nothing. And that is A

True Story.”

 

The poems range from one to thirty lines and ALL are of one page maximum. Most poems are observational and Gainer uses anecdotes from ordinary, every day events- such as walking to a coffee shop, watching tv, visiting his doctor to inquire about obtaining a cannabis prescription, receiving a late night call, growing old & the like- to guide and authenticate the experiences of his writing.  

 

Despite its length, the book can easily be read in 1 to 2 hours and certainly merits multiple readings. The writing is fresh, quirky, pared back, intimate, humorous and full of surprises.

 

Observations of an

             Obsessive-Compulsive

 

The funeral went good

but the cemetery

was maddening

a jumble of headstones

nothing

in alphabetical

order.

 

I suspect

I was the only one

to notice.


(all poems are posted with the permission of the artist)

 

Gainer is a gifted writer with a fertile imagination and has a playful but wicked & sometimes a very naughty sense of humour:

 

Confessing to a Suicide

 

I’ve been practicing the note

so far 

all I can come up with

is

It was me.

 

Gainer also writes perceptively about passion and is discreet and caring but he also understands its wayward & irreverent ways. Here are two of favourites from the collection:

 

Connecting with God

 

I do my praying

in the shower. 

Seem to get better

reception there.

 

I’m feeling the need

now.

Join me.

 

It’s a small shower

you can kneel

first.

 

 

 The Motive

 

She likes

that he does

her laundry

doesn’t realize

he has

his favorites.

 

 

These are simple but striking poems born out of the kiln of Gainer having lived a long & loving life.

 

What I sometimes admire most about his writing, is how he can concisely sum up this wonderful but bag of shit we have been handed, as he expresses in the following short poem:

 

The Short History of the

         Development of Man

 

It started out slow

then just went

fucking crazy. 

 

Read my review of Gainer’s latest full-length collection of poetry on BMR here: https://georgedanderson.blogspot.com/2018/02/book-review-bill-gainer-mysterious-book.html

 

 

Buy the book here: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-true-story-bill-gainer/1140532300?ean=9781952411694

 

Sunday, January 23, 2022

Jason Gerrish Interviews George Douglas Anderson about his new chapbook The Factory of Eccentric Poetics (Holy & Intoxicated Publications, 2022)

 


The speaker in this chapbook seems to have a deeper understanding of time and space than the narrator in your collection The Rough End Of The Pineapple.  The speaker also plays a less central role in these poems and appears to be outside the poem and looking in, at events. Can you discuss your treatment of time and space in this collection?

 

Many of the poems in the chapbook in the collection were written well before the publication of The Rough End of the Pineapple. At the time, I was dabbling with post-modern theories of deconstruction in my Preliminary & HSC classes whilst studying films such as The MatrixBlade Runner, the revisionist Clint Eastwood Western Unforgiven and Michael Ondaatje's amazing first novel The Collected Works of Billy The Kid.  


There is no common speaker in the chap. Each poem is unique and the poems tend to deliberately blur the specifics of time & space. The chap features what I call my “abstract” poems.


The poems were initially written as experiments in form & style without publication in mind. The chapbook is an attempt to affirm but also to subvert post-modern ways of thinking. I'm not blindly bowing down to po-mo and sometimes try to playfully kick it up the ass. 


This is perhaps best represented in the following poem: 


Running Away With the Spoon

 

amongst the electric cacophony of memory

the sobbing knife plunges in & out

time as an uneven continuum;

Foucault behind us retching loudly

 

The elephant in the room

her pink diamante decorated pager

a series of displaced recollections; 

a face resembling an overcooked cabbage

 

Her hips dizzy, whispering

in constant flux. A chance comfort 

in a squalid, idiom filled illeism

like a mad dog to its faeces

 

The first poem I wrote in this style was aptly titled ‘Centos’ (2008): http://www.poetrycemetery.com/andersonnew.htm


In The Rough End of the Pineapple you will also find some examples of my abstract work, such as ‘On Obscurity’ and ‘Diary of a Semi-Colon’. More recently, I was encouraged by Henry Stanton of The Raw Art Review who ran with three poems from the chap in late 2020.  

 

I also hugely salute my publisher John D. Robinson of Holy & Intoxicated Publications who accepted this experimental chap without any bullshit or requests for revision. Robinson has now published three of my chapbooks Fuckwits & Angels (2019), The Portal (2020) and The Factory of Eccentric Poetics (2022). The hugely talented Englishman has had an amazing writing career trajectory of his own but has also published small alternative press poetry heroes such as Doug Draime & A.D. Winans and as nurtured and encouraged many other writers- including myself.   

 

I want to jump right to one of your abstract poems, because you take some exciting risks in this collection. The poem ‘Danger Falling Man’ is a short piece, but I feel time and space have been opened up and expanded in this short poem, to include the weight of the protagonist’s entire life. What were your challenges in writing this poem?

 

The main challenge, as with most poems in the chap, is to try to shift from my usual clear, narrative style while still retaining a sense of coherency and order. I also didn’t want the poems to come across as too contrived, as intellectual bullshit. Poems in this style open themselves up to the criticism that they are wanky literary exercises which foreground form over substance. Ever try reading AMERICAN HYBRID: A Norton Anthology of NewPoetry (2009)? It's total crap!

 

A couple of days ago in response to your question, I opened my workbooks for the first time since the conception of the poem. As you know, I prefer my poems to speak for themselves, but as a high school teacher over decades, I also like to explain things in detail, including the dull, unimportant aspects of my writing.

 

Most of the words in 'Danger Falling Man' were lifted from my HSC Extension 2 students who were creating material for their Major Work short stories:   https://educationstandards.nsw.edu.au/wps/portal/nesa/11-12/stage-6-learning-areas/stage-6-english/english-extension-2017/major-work-advice

 

While examining their work, I compiled a list of some of their oddly memorable lines. I later reshuffled the lines and broke the writing into stanzas to create new and absurd meanings.



Notes for 'Danger Falling Man' (click to enlarge)

 I was intrigued how some filmmakers, writers and musicians used an eclectic mix of different styles and source materials to create something entirely new. ‘Danger Falling Man’ is a “found” poem which uses a cut & paste style. The speaker uses multiple voices and ironically, I reckon is in serious danger of "falling" short artistically in the mongrel pastiche creation of the poem.


Another abstract poem is ‘A Bee Collecting Honey’. I am deeply concerned by the urgency in each troubled line of ‘A Bee Collecting Honey’. I am attracted to each image in this poem and yet I have failed to understand or experience the poem, as a whole. What can you tell me about the subject of this poem and its title?

 

The chronology of the poem’s narrative is deliberately thrown into disarray and instead is revealed in fragments. It uses compressed images and associations to reveal a woman’s tormented life which has been tragically cut short. This idea is sharply contrasted with the serene, natural image of a bee collecting honey in a field:


 A Bee Collecting Honey

 

her skeletal body

his own filled with hollowed hope

 

the red claret-stained concrete reeking of loss

the wild tattoo of her life robbed by stealth

 

disappointment was a polished slab

beneath her thin-mattressed soul

 

hooks tearing at the innards of her throat

he is a missile spiraling out of control at 25 metres per second  

 

a streak of blue & red for a face

a freshly cut lawn seeping from pall-bearing lips

 

she kneels convulsing in the mud beside the limp boy

bags of sand hunched tight under the sagging sun


There are several poems in this collection that refuse to be easily defined. ‘Skinned’ is another poem that, like ‘A Bee Collecting Honey’, resists a linear interpretation. I struggled with ‘Skinned’to experience it chronologically, but I couldn’t bend it into something straight. I experience “Skinned” as a dream.

 

The poem ‘Skinned’ is one of my earliest “abstract” poems. I like the way it defies definition & how it really doesn’t make much sense if you examine it closely. This is in sharp contrast to my over-rational day job over decades as a high school teacher in an elite institution. 

 

I cannot recall the specific context of the poem and why it was written, apart from it being an experiment. In my notes to the poem the term “skinned” refers to a recent trend to cut out the full back tattoo panels of heavily tattooed corpses and to preserve them as Art.  


In the poem, I perhaps imagined the words, like the deceased’s tattooed skin expressing a montage of feelings and experiences.

 

Find the poem ‘Skinned’ online here: http://clockwisecat.blogspot.com/2011/01/skinned-by-george-anderson.html

 

I like the term “compressed images” you used, like forcing air into a balloon, until it can’t take anymore, just before it pops. It describes how engaging the images in these poems are for me. Who are some of your influences for found and cut and paste poetry?

 

I was looking for new forms to express my poetry and for my students to submit to the school’s long-standing poetry journal Ephemeral. There is plenty of material online.

 

As far as “non-lineal” texts are concerned, I found useful John Ashbery April Galleons, Michael Brennan Autoethnographic and Michael Farrell ode ode- the latter whom I met in Sydney while a member of the Poet's Union. More recently, a poet friend gave me a heads-up to an article 'William Burroughs: The Cut Up Method' which might interest you: https://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88v/burroughs-cutup.html

 

How many of the poems in The Factory of Eccentric Poetics are, in part, made up of the many voices you have heard and read from your students over the years?

 

In the collection the purely “found poems” would include my favourite ‘Moth’, ‘A History of Lies’, ‘His Brain is a Fish’ and a few others. As I mentioned previously, they were written as experiments to contrast with my characteristic, more accessible work. 

 

I’m imagining that some of the lines in these poems remind you of students you have taught. Is there an echo, for you, of your classroom, layered in the “found” or “cut and paste” poems that you have mentioned?

 

Interesting question. I have dealt with the concept of students in my classroom being layered in my imagination in my chapbook of school poems ‘The Portal’ (Holy & Intoxicated Publications, 2020). 

 

The found poems are usually lines taken from numerous unidentified students and therefore I am unable to link specific lines to specific students. Perhaps the best thing I got out of the process was to turn the arduous task of grading students into a creative event. 

 

In the title poem, ‘The Factory of Eccentric Poetics’, I feel you are describing a very raw creative process that surrenders to chaos or madness. However, it interests me that the poem itself has melodious language and meter. What can you tell me about your intent for this poem and your choice of meter and language?

 

Today, I found my notes on the poem for the first time since writing it. I borrowed & heavily edited a student's short stories written for exam purposes. I discarded about half of the found lines, shuffled them beyond recognition & added a few words here & there:


The Factory of Eccentric Poetics

 

in the underworld of his mind

it was madness, it was madness

 

the flecking monochromic images

the pastiche, tedium of sentences

 

dancing towards an endless nothing

trading notes, rhythms & off-beats

 

dissonant/ out of tune as though

several songs were ushering at once

 

sledge-hammering out of their imprisoned cadence


 

The title is of my own invention and I surmise it derives from the description of the trumpet player near the end of the poem attempting to rise above “the tedium of sentences" and after many failed experiments finds his voice- "sledge-hammering out of their imprisoned structure.” 

 

Henry Denander’s cover beautifully illustrates this artistic quest.

 

I love the line “sledge-hammering out of their imprisoned structure”, and I think The Factory of Eccentric Poetics is great title for this book. How did you go about selecting the poems for this chap?  

 

First, I listed the poems which I labeled abstract, perhaps about 50. Then I culled the mongrels in terms of merit- language, sound, idea, coherence. Later, I intuitively sequenced them. The whole process took at least two months. 

 

Another poem that moves me in this collection is ‘The God Of Doors’. I have a strong emotional response with this piece and keep coming back to it. What can you tell me about this poem?

 

The poem is another one of my digs at suits, the establishment, which views the economy as supremely important- far more important than other matters like our health. It uses images from cinema-photography to show the failings of government & business, particularly when viewed in terms of our present crisis.  

 

 The God of Doors

 

like a darkly bruised banana

I miss the flesh of her pale lips

 

I miss the depth of field 

of her spider-bite piercings

 

I miss her tight aperture,

her perfectly sculptured combover

 

instead- the self-satisfied swagger

of bewildered suits

 

towards goals as purposeless

as birds without wings

 

the diamond necklaces of short-sightedness

 

Where is the chapbook available for purchase, and what’s next for you, George?

 

Just received my shipment and there are about 5 copies still available for $5 each plus postage (from Australia). 

 

Next for me? I’m presently working on a chapbook for Between Shadows Press called ‘The Beast With 3 Legs.’ Cover art by Danny D. Ford. I return to my clear narrative poems which are character driven.



Thank you, George, for taking the time to speak with me about your new chapbook.  

Thanks again, Jason for taking the time to carefully read my work!

Thursday, January 13, 2022

New Poems: Jon Bennett



Donner 

 

Just past Twin Bridges  

a snow chain broke 

lashing the wheel like a whip 

so I got out  

and lay in the slush to fix it 

It was 4am, no cell service, freezing 

and I pulled at the octopus of wire 

until my fingers were numb 

I knew a man in Reno  

with a problem 

and a big wallet 

and although I got his money 

the Sierras wanted revenge 

As a last resort 

I took off the wheel 

but the car shifted in the muck 

slipped from the jack 

and pinned my arm 

After yelling for a while  

I thought I heard 

a large animal 

and it was then I remembered  

Donner Summit, 

how one minute 

you’re looking a man in the eye 

and the next 

he’s in your stomach. 

-




Strippers 

 

I was only 14 

but I had a friend who knew someone 

and we got a job stripping 

the covers off paperbacks 

When a bookstore can’t sell something 

they return it to the distributor, 

romances, mysteries, magazines, 

the distributor in turn sends the covers 

back to the publishers 

to prove they weren’t sold 

The warehouse we worked at 

happened to be gay owned 

they had HonchoBlue BoyTorso 

a real eye opener to me 

but they also had 

ClubGalleryHustler, Chic, Juggs 

and it was all destined for the trash pile 

I was a morbidly obese preteen 

and no one paid attention to me 

as I left with boxes 

of stripped science fiction and porn, 

the substance worthless 

without those  

precious covers. 

-




Smackulon Lord of Junk 

 

The doctors had put me under 

with fentanyl and midazolam 

and I was having a dream 

Smackulon, the Lord of Heroin, 

was sitting at a bar 

and pushed a shot glass toward me 

“Don’t be a wuss,” he said  

When I drank this magic liquor 

a doorway opened 

to my colon 

and Smackulon and I 

walked through, arm in arm 

We saw gladiola-like microbes, 

fluorescent lichens, cawing crows, 

a chocolate river 

and a fissure to Hell 

where all the cancer 

was leaking out 

Then Smackulon shoved me 

headfirst into that fiery place 

and when they woke me  

I found  

I was still 

in a world of shit. 

---



Bio:

 

Jon Bennett writes and plays music in San Francisco's Tenderloin neighborhood. You can find his work on most music streaming websites. A collection of his poems is available on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/Leisure-Town-Jon-Bennett/dp/B09NRK1N79/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3LJF1VA7QW8O&keywords=jon+bennett+leisure+town+poetry.  You can connect with him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100067752415341.