Monday, September 29, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
How to Draw A Hitler Mustache
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
What Max Does at Birthday Parties
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
I Was Also Blogging
I Was Also Blogging
Ron Silliman is a great American blogger, at least in terms of poetry blogs. Everyone reads him, including his friends, like Barrett Watten and Curtis Faville.
It says here: It's a 300 foot drop!
John Ashbery is a great American poet who also has written a great deal of art criticism and other things. His friends, especially Frank O'Hara, are legends, like him.
It says here: This is improv. This is "Who's Line Is It Anyway?"
You know, I like Amy Gerstler. She's a terrific poet and also very,very kind. I also like reading Dennis Cooper's blog. Dennis and Amy are longtime friends. Dennis' blog is a little heavy on the gay porn/exposed, effete, young male side for me, but it's always interesting anyway.
It says here: Not a human thinking, not a human something, but a human being!
You know, I think Amy Gerstler should have a blog. She could link to me, Peter Davis, and other people she knows like Dennis Cooper.
It says: It's a washing machine, not a cocktail waitress.
William Carlos Williams was no Wallace Stevens, just as Wallace Stevens was no William Carlos Williams. We're comparing apple doctors and orange insurance men, here.
It says: Now I'm done. Hey, hey, everybody! Ice cream sandwiches!
The long and short of American poetry is Walt Whitman and Emily Dickinson. Neither blogged in the true, bloggy sense. But both were clearly endpoint indicators, in regard to the specific length of a poem. This doesn't make them familiar with computers, but it does imply technology.
It says: Rated at 35 miles an hour! Two amazing cars! I got a knucklehead!
But, really, everyone reads Silliman's blog. Even if you don't, it's kind of like you do just because you might have heard of him or poets like Rae Armantrout or Amy Gerstler. Even if just through this poem! I know I mentioned Amy before, but I guess I'm still thinking about her.
It says: You are suffering from a medical condition. Morel mushrooms! That is because, don't get me wrong, let's pretend this was all spontaneous!
Monday, September 22, 2008
Stuff on My Desk (It's All Sort of Ominous, But In AGood Way)
First there's the Darth Vader notebook which contains the words that my son knows how to read and spell. They are: I, can, we, the, red, you.
It's that Kent Johnson's new book! Now that's a good thing! People, we are allowed to appreciate the things in the universe!
It's a guitar tuner because if you play a guitar you may notice the frequency with which guitars need to be tuned. It's not all the time, but it happens.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
She Is 730 Days Old Today!
the first picture: L to R, my wife, her little sister, her "Mom-mo"(great grandmother), her mom, and her grandmother, Mary Jane.
the second picture: L to R, grandmother Mary Jane, my daughter Estella (shortly after she was born), my wife, and her mom (my mother-in-law).
last picture: Estella Jo (this past July in Colorado, at some water park).
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Things That Are Hard to Argue
to Max, he said that
"making a Loserville
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Things on My Desk
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Things on My Desk
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
He Was Super Stoked!
Labels: What Max Brings Home from School
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Stuff You Blah
Why on earth? And I just hate it.
I say to myself all kinds of stuff.
And I hate a lot of it.
And then, I even notice that other poets
are awful too. I hate hate.
Now the fun starts. You're like,
Fuck. Also, whole parts of my life I can't
comprehend. Especially with words.
Oh god people! I'm drying up in here.
I'm hollow hollow hollow.
You've got ideas. Me too.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
And my mom's here for a visit.
She's great. Perfect.
And then I was trying to change something,
but other things happened.
You could measure it, like with
To me it doesn't matter.
I've been trying to rebirth myself.
To tie myself up in some rebirthification.
I'm all like, let's get some
rebirthisizing happening up in here.