Friday, February 17, 2006
My large-format printer arrived yesterday. I have set it up in its own little cubbyhole. Now I can print very wide things. Hooray!
Putting the finishing touches on a pantoum that uses the word "fuck" a lot. The only thing more retarded than villanelles is pantoums, you know.
I'm going to have to work this weekend, but I'm hoping to spread it out over the three days, and get some poem fun done too. The Spectacle of Meat should go into final production, I have some other people's poems to read, and some long-abandoned projects of my own (sailors, oranges), to try and breathe some life into. For some reason, I feel that all of this will be made easier by getting a haircut, which I plan to do tomorrow.
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Wednesday, February 15, 2006
If you are in NYC, this is where you should be
tonight.
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The ink cartridges for my new printer arrived yesterday, but not the printer. Apparently UPS tried to deliver it to my office after hours. Silly UPS! Hopefully they will manage a daytime delivery today.
Submission of the meat poems to three different people has resulted in three mutually exclusive lists of poems to cut, which probably means I'll keep them all...
Other than that, I'm a little zonked out by life, the universe, and everything. Oh, sleepy me . . .
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Monday, February 13, 2006
Half a sick day for me. Went to work feeling okay, if a little toasty. Then I ate an apple danish and all hell broke loose. Whee! There's only so many times you can barf in one morning before you realize your productivity is greatly reduced. Got home around one, slept for three and a half hours, and am now gingerly contemplating eating something else. It's like an experiment!
Good mail today, though: Valentines from Jessica Smith and Kate Greenstreet, and from Michael Koshkin, the first issue of Hot Whiskey Magazine, a chapbook entitled "Weird Star Thing," featuring the poetry and other work of Michael, Jennifer Rogers, and Barbara Barg, and bestill my heart, a lovely, linoleum printed pork chop. Hooray for meat!
Meat is looking well these days. I'm now at the final stages...the poems are pretty much complete, and I just have to decide which ones are not going to make the final cut. They shall be the orphan meat, carved off from the rest of the hock and left to drift eternally in the gravy of their own damnation. Alackaday for such unfortunate meat!
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Sunday, February 12, 2006
Hee! Unpleasant Event Schedule now has a schedule that allows you to see who, eventually,
will be unpleasant. That's not all --
KPF lives! If you're around for that small press fair, go and sing, and be made whole.
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Stacy Szysmaszek has an interesting chapbook available as a PDF
here. According to the postscript, the poems were written in response to Peter Kropotkin's book, "Mutual Aid: A Factor in Evolution." I remember a bit about Kropotkin from my Russian Studies days -- he was one of the numerous Victorian persons rather disturbed by the effects of Darwin's theories on the culture around him, especially by "Social Darwinist" tendencies. Rather than retreat into religious pieties, however, he went back to the theory, and studied the behaviors of bird colonies, He eventually devised a theory of how evolution can result in mutual aid -- cooperative behaviors that make a species hardier as a whole. This evolution of mutual aid would keep evolution from being a zero-sum game, and moreover, give a way out to people who would prefer to both (a) be totally secular and (b) not, like, kick poor people on the way to work in the morning.
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Love poem inside! How cool is that?
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It snowed and snowed. Now that the sun's well up, however, it seems to be melting off fast. This is a bit of a problem, seeing as just how much snow got stuck up in tree branches and eaves, and is now all of a sudden falling in great chunks to the ground. I've heard several batches of screams and giggles from outside as passersby dodge vicious falling snow.
Oh, and one dude on cross-country skis.
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