In the Ditch, with Worms and Powdered Milk
By Lori Huskey
According to the Chicago Sun-Times, Susan Yount is having a good year. Yount is so determined to succeed as a poet that she says she’d sooner “live in a ditch and eat worms” than waitress again.
Check please!
But there isn’t anything bourgeois about Yount. She has become a strong literary example because her work depicts the sullen economic climate in which we live.
Wait…
We didn’t mean to remind you of your unpaid bills and resulting drinking problem. What we did mean, what you should truly focus on, is Yount’s tasty publication, Arsenic Lobster Poetry Journal.
Banned Poetry, Racism, and Zucchini
By Lori Huskey
Let’s begin with Russia: according to present-day law, citizens are allowed to gather in public places and hold meetings, rally, talk about political things. This also includes, we’re sure, the occasional poetry reading. But in this vast fur-wearing, vodka-drinking country, poetry is the bad influence friend that will get you in trouble. Even today, when Russians gather in non-violent forces, showing even the most remote hint of poetic idealism, they can still be arrested. Yeah, imagine meeting your friends in, say, Berkelely, reading a June Jordan poem, and then being shuttled to the police station wearing handcuffs.
Poets Be Crazy
By Lori Huskey
Often you’ll hear that a poetry reading should never run for more than 40 minutes, otherwise people start to go batty. Good advice, sure. But others disagree. These crazy people think poetry reading should be non-stop endeavors — lasting up to nine hours. Holy smokes, nine hours? That’s right, in the near future the Bay Area Poetry Marathon will explode like a word minefield, from 12-9 on both Saturday and Sunday this weekend.
Yes, poets be crazy.
The Heliolatry Longing
By Lori Huskey
The first day of summer has officially been marked and here in Seattle it feels like we RSVP’d to the wrong party. We got all dressed up, only to find out it wasn’t time to start sloshing down the ‘ritas. Instead, the gray sent us indoors, where we gargled whiskey and continued to write away while the umpteenth person updated their Facebook status with “Juneuary.”
It may be gray here, but this day is the longest of the year. (No p(s)un intended). In addition to long daylight, we love summer blackberries, the word ‘longing’, and the sparkly, gorgeous way Robert Hass uses it here:
Poetry to Grind Your Teeth Over
By Lori Huskey
What have you been dreaming about lately? A common image in dreams is teeth. Dream experts say there is an abundance of meaning behind these nocturnal film festivals starring your pearly whites. Dream of losing your teeth? Yes, that’s freaky. But it’s not uncommon. Some scientists of abnormal psychology wonder if dental anxiety in dreams can symbolize death anxiety, fear of exposure, how others perceive us and terminal illness.
The human mouth has 32 permanent teeth. The word tooth is used in botany to describe a “a small, marginal lobe.” And as you know, dead bodies can be identified by dental records and that is why your dentist tells you to brush, kids.
With all these toothy possibilities, it isn’t hard to incorporate poetry. Gargle heavily with words, fill every cavity with the sugar of poetry. Floss with a string of pentameter — 32 lines in all. Today’s poems are brought to you by the number 32 and the word “tooth.” Clench all 32 of your teeth and brace your jaw for the latest from 32 poems, a journal that publishes poems within that two digit constraint.
– Lori Huskey





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