Thursday, December 07, 2006

Surrounded by stacks of paper.

I've wanted poetry not to knuckle down on me, repeating over and over just how goddamn sublime abject and real it is. And yet -- God's Silence is beautiful, maybe the best I've seen from FWright. Coincidentally, I'm willing to reconsider my contempt for the word inevitable, as in The inevitable sequel to a time of radiant pluralisms is a period of we-they conflict.

I stopped receiving Halvard Johnson's occasional e-mail distribution of poems a while back. Tried the Ghost -- admirable, but the 5MB pdfs were crashing my inbox. Can't barely remember to check Poetry Daily, No Tell, The Page. Blogs I have no problem reading -- base metals drive out rare ones. Controversy and contrarianism posing as considered wisdom... who doesn't see through it. Who isn't dead to event and publication spam.

Publicity -- not actually a core strength. There's a show next Wednesday -- does anybody know about it? Nerp. Touring was great; almost all of the hosts did major legwork to get the word out, and great audiences arrived. At home I let this piece fall by the side. We get crowds still somehow, but I hate sending out spam (stopped doing it, actually), and I'm six months behind on posting the YouTube clips.

And what a good show coming up, too. David's one of the last few heroes of my poetry infancy who refuses to phone it in -- beautiful new work every year. And Richard Wirick's postcards were the best work I saw last year. Ah well. Someone'll show, they'll love it, and we'll all buy drink after drink.

Jordan - #




I'm Jordan Davis.
I write a lot.
I mention it here.

Say hi: jordan [at] jordandavis [dot] com.

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