by Kevin McLellan

The theater of the quotidian
Again. The impulse to speak.
And by not speaking
Creates a ghost. Within

I bury it further. Others keep
It company — keep
It at a distance — until
I’m in public. Like now

In a crowd. I know people
Look down upon those
Who talk to themselves.
And I am talking to myself

Here in front of others ‘dying
A slow death’ —

by Kevin McLellan

In the subway all the down
escalator people jog

and the up are statued — I am one

of them. Outside a small thing
and its shadow dart

(or darts?) into the hedges.

***

This will be a long relationship,

yet I don’t want to give
my pain, which I refuse

to speak about, too much priority.

***

I overheard a young man say,

“. . . even microorganisms
are confused” and after saying this

he spoke of his own confusion.

***

What is it about the holidays
and tantrums.

***

In many ways I have adapted

to danger, yet the small things
(e.g., ticks, cancer cells, ellipses

. . . ) loom large.

***

Landscape has too many layers

of uncertainty, too far from
earthen composition, from

the visual properties of blood.

An early leaf took yellow and
from the others I extract it.

***

The familiar
isn’t always

the best option.

by Stephen Bett

All you have to do is look around you
at other poets . . . and see what unkind, impolite,
and self–involved people they are, the poets, mainly out
for themselves and their ‘poetry careers’, and the bigger /their vitas . . .

Poetry Will Save Your Life — Kent Johnson (with gracias nods to da notes at the foot)

All you have to do is look around you
You like the writers in my class / The way they kiss each other’s ass” 1
beathe lilty frilly breeze thru PoEms a’loud in camp
so sigh, my PoVoice did this to me & my vo’cabs 2

at other poets . . . and see what unkind, impolite
killer kitsch they loves to huh–8, dis hologram hoaxter
dis provocateur, plagiarist, poetomachia dispatch forger 3
infamy clang his name egg–shell walking PoWorld

and self–involved people they are, the poets, mainly out
’n abt revolving doors’ PoFound . . . float cash BigPharmaDough
dems preening pretty peevish, dems hipper–than–thou

for themselves and their ‘poetry careers’, and the bigger /their . . .
All Because of Poetry I have a Big House on the Oceans (Both),3
fuckin Cars, Piles of MooLa, and Really mucho much sex! 4 My third
ex–wife once asked me, “How to Write an Avant–Garde Poem.
No shit.” 5

__________________

1 From KJ’s poem “The Discs of Snow” (Big House ); & much phrasing throughout here owing to illuminating articles on KJ’s Big House, by Sharon Thesen, Miriam Nichols, Joshua Weiner, Adan Lehrer, Paul Nelson, & Burt Kimmelman

2 The odiously fluffed up & all too familiar “Poetry Voice” at public readings; &, with respect, repurposing Spicer’s final line

3 Johnson & Boughn’s Dispatches from the Poetry Wars; & KJ’s “Emily Post– Avant” co–opt good as beat down our gone–done hippie–domes

4 The most excellent full title of the present KJ book of poems

5 First part of line, from this present, glossed KJ poem; the quote is from Joshua Weiner’s “Antidisestablishmentarianism: A Too Personal Thunk on Kent Johnson’s Big House,” referencing the title of a summer program course “taught by a radically chic poet . . . in Provincetown,” circa 2000: the avant–garde co–opted & mainstreamed (yet again) to pointlessness

by Clifford Fyman

Norman Cross, P.O. Box 442
Kettie, Ca, suggests we become
“road partners” when we meet
yesterday on the freight train
to Oroville from Winnemucca.
He used to be a railroad man
now collects retirement checks
and has spent his time roaming
“all over this here area”
fifteen years, or two years after
his wife dies.
A suitcase holds his dress slacks.
He hops mostly grain cars
with room enough to stretch out
and the heavy weight provides
a smooth comfortable ride.
He knows when a tunnel is coming
how long it will be
and in total darkness all I can see
is a red glow
his cigarette.

I should travel to Kettie where we’ll
camp along the river,
pan gold, search for
quartz and other precious stones
Norman sells in San Jose
and he says he’ll show me survival
techniques like trout–fishing
with hooked string, and how to boil water
in a wine bottle.