Bonjour, internet, from early September in Albany, NY (though the pic is from housebound pandemic times). I’m checking in about a few recent summer pubs. First, in July, my English-to-English translation of Schuyler’s “The Morning of the Poem” (from my complete pandemically-composed English-to-English translations of the Collected Poems of James Schuyler) popped up at Heavy Feather Review! So many thanks to the editors there esp. Jason Teal and Bill Lessard for soliciting the work. They also included a brooding morning recording and a sweet li’l interview. Enjoy over breakfast or whatevs!
Secondly, in August, my "The Friends of the Library" was in among the star-packed new summer volume of Action, Spectacle. Matthew Dickman, and Matthew Rohrer, and all of the famous Matthew poets are in here. Even a few Matts. I can't imagine a better place for this poem. Anyway, a few falls ago, I followed only poets on Twitter. Every Sunday night, for 13 weeks, I collected the first 10 tweets in my feed and used that text to generate a poem that week. I ended up creating a series of poet composite profiles, a portrait of who we are, now were, myself included, at the moment. Many of the poems ended up being, as you can imagine, a li'l sardonic, a li'l sensitive, a li'l self-loathing, a li'l petty, but there's plenty of other stuff buried in there too - all the stuff! - including some sneaky mystical delight. Like this one here that starts with a reference to a Brenda Hillman tweet. And dudes - if can you believe it? - Brenda Hillman's even in this volume of Action, Spectacle, too!
