Over the past several months, I’ve accumulated quite a stack of small press books in purchase and trade. They’re teetering precariously on my desk and floor and shelves. In no particular order, I’m going to try to go through them and offer some brief notes to those who might be interested in such things…
DISCLAIMER: The small press poetry world is very small indeed. Inevitably, I’m going to touch on work by folks I either know or have known or will know, in person or via correspondence. Please understand that these are thumbnail impressions meant to give some idea of the content of the books — not fully formulated and researched reviews. — DH
Slightly Left of Thinking — Steve McCafferey, Chax Press
Got to see Steve and Karen McCormack read this past week in Austin. I enjoyed Karen’s reading, which consisted mostly of medium-length meditations on specific moments, sort of like landscapes, interwoven with literary quotes and philosophical asides; I was sorry I couldn’t afford to buy a copy of her book. Really I couldn’t afford Steve’s either, but was completely blown away by the range, wit, and humor of his reading. Especially interesting are the series of “Pataphysical Poems,” which in turn include a series of “Ghost Poems” — poems that haven’t actually been written, but are in fact a description of the unwritten poems.
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The fifth poem is a sonnette in Petrarchan rhyme scheme, and written in Scottish dialect. It asks whether Pound’s “Hugh Selwyn Mauberley” compares favorably with Hugh MacDiarmid’s “Second Hymn to Lenin.” My favorite passage is the one that ends with the phrase “an quentiss slycht him rycht and fycht” but the last line that starts with “Give fyff yet kynryk yhwman” fails to tie off the obvious geo-political sentiment.
Another favorite is “The Dangers of Poetry,” a tribute to the opening of Italo Calvino‘s If on a winter’s night a traveler, which goes just far enough in parodying the already parodic author-reader address. I’ll be a long time exploring the wonders of this book, and can’t wait to study with Steve at Buffalo.
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Estrella’s Prophecies, Vols. I, II, III — David Baratier, Runaway Spoon (I), anabasis (II), Luna Bizonte (III)
This is weird stuff. The “prophecies” come in the form of cracked lyrics from, as the author writes, “a fortune-telling vending machine who has become an obsession for some time now.” I’m attracted to these books because of the low-fi, comic-book production, which fits quite well with the form, as well as the Spicerian feel of the project as a whole.
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Estrella’s Prophecies IV
Earn a disproportionate amount of
the world’s attention this month.
Appear in all the media regularly.
Make a name for yourself, jerk. Since
it is doubtful anyone would show a
mother loved face for free, it will be
expensive and requires an alibi. For
this reason buy a car lot or a carpet
company. Once you are famous, become
an Elvis impersonator and marry the
queen of rock and roll who is no longer
Joan Jett. Crimson and clover is over.
Drop another dime in the jukebox baby!
Hey, oh hey, it keeps me moving on.
I like the easy flow of these “prophesies,” their feistiness and avoidance of poetic figures and constructions. Lines like “The taste of fun is / Sweet Tarts fat free tangy candy” just roll off the tongue and tickle the ear. Yet at times — and perhaps I’m clinging more than I should to the model of Jack Spicer — there’s not quite enough for me to latch on to in terms of content and language inquiry, especially over the course of what’s a fairly long project. Like some of Spicer’s work, there’s a good deal of punning and low-high culture path-crossing. Overall, I like, and will continue to dip in and get my fortune for the day.
