mimsy and outgrabe

I wasn't going to post anything today (despite another posting dry spell) because I'm in the middle of mid-semester grading (papers, papers, and now exams to add to the pile) -- but Brooklyn Copeland has a poem on the New York Times site , and I thought I'd repost it for two reasons. First, I think this "Poetry Pairings" feature is really fucking cool, and thanks to Copeland, I've just discovered it. Second, I think her poem is really fucking cool, too.  Her bio, which serves as an introduction to the poem (I'm not sure how I feel about that , NYT) points out that she's one of the youngest contributors to the Poetry Magazine anthology, "The Open Door: One Hundred Poems, One Hundred Years of Poetry Magazine." Age really shouldn't play a part in whether we think a poem (or a poet) is remarkable or not, and I think that's what the bio sets us up for -- however, the poem is remarkable no matter the age of the poet. It's qu...

Wow. Quite a posting blackout, huh? I haven't really had anything to say for the past week -- I've been keeping my head down, trying to play catch-up where grading and class prep is concerned (and failing miserably). My mood, however, has been steadier during the past week, which is a really good thing. Less ambivalence, more genuine laughter. Over the years I've streamlined my courses so that I only grade what's absolutely necessary and I use a check/check minus system for the small assignments; and yet, frustratingly, I find myself faced -- every semester -- with a backlog of grading. And it's not for want of focus at work. I've been more focused than ever this semester. My friend and colleague A. jumped ship and went to another campus, so he's not around for me to pester when I feel like avoiding work -- and I'm not even sure I would have resorted to that old habit this semester, if he was around, simply because of the sheer desperation I f...

It's Columbus Day, a holiday for the grade schools, so my non-duty day (Stuffolk's term for the day during the week we don't teach classes) will actually be filled with lots of duties, just not academic ones.  There are a lot of housekeeping details to take care of after our house was ransacked for the boy's 4th birthday party . . . which managed to be a good party for him -- really just one big play-date with his little friends, dressed in their superhero costumes, without a lot of structure but WITH a whole lot of chaos. Somehow, between the herculean efforts of my sister, her boyfriend, and my husband, we managed to get the house ready for the party even though, about two hours before the party was scheduled to begin, we had a major plumbing incident that covered most of the kitchen in debris from the garbage disposal and required dismantling part of the pipes in the basement.  I still don't know how A. managed to keep calm and cool and be persistent an...

I don't have too much to say today. Hormones and my natural dispensation toward craziness have me looney and sad as a motherfu**er, and that doesn't really mix well with all of the work I have to do, both at the office and at home. My boy's 4th Birthday Super Hero Party (this weekend) might be the saddest 4th Birthday Super Hero Party of all time if I don't get my act together. In the meantime, between now and whenever I DO get my act together (and find time to write a real post), here's a really wonderful poem for you to read by my good friend A.P. up on the web site of Cider Press Review.

So in an act of complete self-indulgence this summer, I purchased two broadsides with the intention of framing them and hanging them in a place of honor somewhere in our home.   And then I was broke.  And then I was still broke, but I found a coupon that gave me a significant discount off the framing, so I had them framed anyway, despite the broke-ness. I was able to pick them up this afternoon, and I'm going to show them off here, as the last post of September. Featuring a fragment from Book of Nightmares . A signed copy! And 25/30. I. am. such. a. dork. They are now hanging above the couch in our living room. My entire family has to share in my nerdy fan-girl side, too.

First, two poems by Ish Klein. I'm not entirely sure what to think of her work as a whole, but I like this poem, "Fairy Tales from the Web," its quiet humor and especially its ending, and this audio poem , for which I really wish the Poetry Foundation had also provided text. While reading Ish Klein I discovered this lovely formal poem by William Meredith: "Five Accounts of a Monogamous Man." And then, surprise, surprise -- after finding that Contemporary Poetry Review piece I mentioned in my last post, I came across this article in The Guardian (via the NewPages blog) that talks also, albeit very briefly, about criticism (and its impending death). And now, I shall put away the laptop and go grade like a good girl. p.s. Oh! And one more: Have I mentioned my huge writer crush on Paul Lisicky? Here's Ocelot . This and three other short fiction pieces are available at Cedars . p.p.s. Damn. I keep being distracted . . . or rather, I keep looking fo...

Well, there's this interview with Joan Houlihan in the Contemporary Poetry Review about criticism. Some highlights: ...I see my own criticism as that of an ideal reader if we think of that reader as someone who: 1. Loves the art of poetry itself, not just individual poems; 2. Is well-read (and not just in poetry); 3. Meets the poem on its own terms, that is, without prejudice as to its form, content, style and unfolding; 4. Enjoys being intellectually and emotionally challenged; 5. Is drawn to mystery but put off by obscurity; 6. Is thrilled by masterful writing of any kind, that is, by the way a line is constructed, how it moves, word choice, syntactical grace; 7. Likes to learn something new (in craft or content); 8. Wants to be at least as engaged in a poem as in a successful magic act... —there’s not enough vigorous weeding.  Ideally, the weeding should be done by the educated reader, the customer who buys and reads the books, and not the critics per se, but ...