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New Poems in Here / Da Fugue Zone

I’ve got two poems from my forthcoming book–Fugue & Strike–in the new, inaugural issue of Here. Also in Here: Ann Lauterback, Joanna Mosuela, Karen Garth, a folio by Lillian-Yvonne Bertram, Joshua Harmon, Allison Titus, Edgar Garcia, Nancy Kuhl, and Nathaniel Mackey. Thanks to Jason Labbe for the care in gathering and editing the work. Much astonishing poetry, letter-pressed cover, fizzy tactility, the right length before the edge gets dull: put down that box of ammo and get this for $10 instead so Jason makes more.

Grateful, also, to have some poems in print and to get some happy feedback on them. I’ve always counted on being able to perform my work, to interpret it, bend the bough and vibrate the air — to connect it w/people that way. It’s been a difficult few years. The pandemic, yes, and also many necessary but challenging changes in life that have kept me from performing in-person then online. In the meanwhile, I haven’t been able to quit Da Fugue Zone. They’re mumbling in the hundreds

The other thing I’d say about this issue that was delightful: returning to the work of many poets I admire, seeing it grow or simply continuing doing that satisfying thing it does and getting peaks at wildly ambitious projects. Ok.

12 lines left on the next page.

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3 New Poems in Sporklet 15

Thanks to the Danika Stegeman LeMay for summoning my words from the Rust Dimension, I’ve got 3 new poems in Sporklet 15: “Da Fugue Zone Vol #23: I desire oblivion, rhythm, breakfast,” “Da Fugue Zone Vol #25: The Hour of Life In Which Mistakes Become Apparent,” and, ugh, “Sonnet On Fourteen One Dollar Bills in a Container with Several Copies of this Sonnet Each Line Available to Purchase for One Dollar and Fourteen Cents.”

Marvelous poems by Angie Mazakis, Matt Mitchell, Elisa Gabbert, Sean Cho Ayres (& more). Rusty Morrison writes “I realize now that for once I / wasn’t performing, just letting myself / listen to myself, for whatever I didn’t / know about the self who shot speed so / many years ago.” Rare company.

Rough drafts of “Sonnet On Fourteen One Dollar Bills in a Container with Several Copies of this Sonnet Each Line Available to Purchase for One Dollar and Fourteen Cents.” I hate typing this title.

Spork does its thing, chugging away for years: a stalwart small press with a low-key fabulous archive. And Drew Burk’s neon vomiting contributor proof page GIF. Seven years ago, through Jake Levine’s hands, they published a huge pile of poems not collected anywhere else (Part 1) (Part 2). Things evolve, but don’t go. I lv Spork.

Raining today in Buffalo. Working an evening shift at job #2. Typing this while people clear out. Here we go.