More Choke Poetics Courtesy of K. Silem Mohammad. Keep ’em coming! Bourgeois Family Christmas In February 1985, my throat and mouth muscles lost all coordination. I could not swallow and began choking on my own saliva. Due to a sore throat I had been swallowing too frequently over and over repeatedly like a mentally retarded dog, and was choking on…
Choke Poetics Now soliciting: “choke” poetry from all corners, from Oakland to Boston to Chicago to Minnesota and anywhere victory inexplicably slips away. Send it here and I’ll post it. Look for the anthology at a concession stand near you in April. Here’s a contribution from Taylor Brady: CHOKING IN OAKLAND (for Terence Long) How do you not swing? An…
“I Choked” I didn’t do it. I choked back the tears and didn’t sleep a wink last night. Definition found in 1: “I laughed so hard I choked on my spit!” Bottom line: my frou-frou bottled water, my fanatical apathy ruined my life. Other people lose jobs = I make money. Holdsclaw: I think I shed a tear– oops–I think…
Cubs Elegy You might want to add his sun- shine side to the shuffle: don’t think you’re so safe when you’re ground down & packed in. Aloof, you’re reaching the point of prowess when, as it would if you hadn’t been there, bat- man hands wing out like a wavefront. By this prior arrangement we’ve gathered sticks and stone- pressed…
I must have missed this, but The Skeptic and I were both citing Creeley in the discussion of linebreaks last week.
The latest poetry superstar…P-Gizzi?
No joy in Blogville tonight. Well. Go Sox. The only thing more boring than mainstream poetry would be a Yankees-Marlins Series.
Oops. When I said that Nick’s blogroll was “no longer his own,” I did not mean to imply that the EPC had somehow seized editorial control of his links list–just that Nick’s own blogroll was now appearing on the EPC–though I can totally see how what I said could be interpreted as meaning the former. In fact, as Nick explains,…
Nick’s blogroll is no longer his own; it’s the “EPC Blog List”, edited by Nick Piombino.
The rain’s finally stopped–depriving me of the chance to try out that new raincoat I’d bought for a damp Bay Area winter, not a soggy Chicago fall–so it looks like Game 6 is a go.