Our dream wrestles in the castle of doubt.

Big thx to Scott at Split Lip for talking to me about poetry and my silly efforts. Also, big high-five to David Tomaloff for saying the best thing ever about me: "When I think about T-Gob and his work, I imagine an America remixed by deejay saints in tank tops; I imagine trees growing ice cream that melts under the Midwest summer sun, dripping and forming text on the shells of silverback turtle-puppies, who then carry it off to his editors—and then that, my friends, is how cookies are made."

Christopher Newgent, one of the cool dudes and a stellar writer and a bourbon guy, writes a bourbon column for Hobart, bringing together these three awesome attributes. His newest post is total WOW.

Hellyeah to Vonnegut letters. 

This looks like a really interesting book about atheists/religious people relations. Check this excerpt.

Major woot-woot for my pals Mark Neely and Ashley Ford for their Pushcart nominations from Pank.

Maurice Manning on Conservatism

The poetry world lost a real deal in Jack Gilbert this week.

Horses at Midnight Without a Moon
by Jack Gilbert
Our heart wanders lost in the dark woods. Our dream wrestles in the castle of doubt. But there's music in us. Hope is pushed down but the angel flies up again taking us with her. The summer mornings begin inch by inch while we sleep, and walk with us later as long-legged beauty through the dirty streets. It is no surprise that danger and suffering surround us. What astonishes is the singing. We know the horses are there in the dark meadow because we can smell them, can hear them breathing. Our spirit persists like a man struggling through the frozen valley who suddenly smells flowers and realizes the snow is melting out of sight on top of the mountain, knows that spring has begun. Fire When Ready were one of the best bands no one has ever heard of.

OVER THE TOUR RECAP DUDE

So, so, so I went on that rad three-stop tour with bookmates Christopher Newgent and Brian Oliu, along with the incredible (read: HOW DID WE GET HIM TO COME WITH US) Matt Bell. A bunch of people and entities and webfaces have posted stuff about this wacky trip, so I'm gonna pull together a bunch of that goodness and add some yapping of my own. Okay, cool:

Our days went like (Wednesday big drive to Tuscaloosa and reading), (Thursday day off in Tuscaloosa; Peter Markus/Jenny Boully reading; DJ Oliu dance party!), (Friday drive to Atlanta; incredible Vouched ATL reading with Amy McDaniel, J Bradley, and Melysa Martinez), (Saturday drive to Nashville; chill coffee shop reading), and (Sunday 16 hours on the road; drop Bell off in Ann Arbor, back to Indy/Elwood). I ended up being in a car for like 2000 miles in five days. IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT.



Christopher Newgent continues to lift up my literary coolness, steady my shaky idiothead, and be a better friend than most I've ever had. He continues to write super affecting sad stories and short snappy poems. He continues to yell out windows with me and throw his hands in the air with me. He began disc golf with me. He continues to drive me cool places. He is a solid fucking writer, more importantly, dude.


Matt Bell is one of the reasons I do this silly writing thing. He was the first "small press" writer I ever read/knew/met. He gave me my first chance to help with a press/magazine, with The Collagist. Because of geography/busyness, this is the first time we've got to hang out for an extended period of time. He's is one of the most thoughtful men I know, and by far, one of my favorite readers. Cataclysm Baby is bound to be a classic on my fiction shelf (and should be on yours too!). What an honor to get to pal around with him for five days.



Brian Oliu is a legit human being, that versatile creature. He holds it down as a DJ, writes some moving lyric essays, can yap-yap (good yapping) on and on about video games, sports, music, books, etc. etc. etc., and as Matt Bell said, "I still don't know what the Crimson Tide mascot looks like, but it should look like Brian Oliu, because he Roll Tides harder than anyone." This is the second time Oliu has hosted me as a reader and as a friend in Tuscaloosa and absolutely those are some of my favorite readings/nights in recent memories. KEEPS IT REAL is what I'm saying.

All three readings were spectacular in their own way. Tuscaloosa being overwhelming with that amazing MFA program's people coming out and talking and buying books and being nice. Atlanta being incredible, seeing the amazing Laura Straub of Vouched Books ATL do here thing, meeting some rad people (Michael Straub! Melysa Martinez! Amy McDaniel! Jamie Iredell! Kory Calico! ETC!), falling in love with that scene/city. Nashville chilling us out before our big Sunday drive, getting to poemyell in a coffee shop, eating the most expensive personal pan pizza of my life.

Basically what I'm saying is, I'm rejuvenated. Basically what I'm saying is, I'm going to keep doing this. Basically what I'm saying is, my brain and body are still mush from all the fun and words and booze. Basically what I'm saying is, HOW LUCKY I AM TO GET TO DRIVE AROUND AND READ WITH THESE THREE AMAZING GUYS. Basically what I'm saying is, I needed this and it happened. Basically what I'm saying, every person who came to a reading is amazing. Basically what I'm saying is, thank you so much for helping put me back together.

Here's a bunch of stuff from around the web and such that I liked a lot and wanna archive here and maybe you will like it too:

Laura Straub's recap of the Atlanta Reading

Jesse Bradley's recordings of each reader at the Atlanta Reading

Here is my video from that reading


Patrick Trotti did a nice little recap on the Tiny Hardcore blog

My Favorite Pictures from the Over The Top Tour Twitter






My Favorite posts from the Over The Top Tour Twitter

• Matt spends as much time on the phone w/ his wife as his loving Facebook posts would suggest.
• "It's just my spirit animal: enormously cocked dragons."- Matt
• "Let's go to a strip club tonight! We'll put the loose back in Tuscaloosa!"- Me
• Rest area? No thanks! We don't rest; we ROLL TIDE.
• "15yr old girls love sleeping."- Brian
• I WAMT SNUGGLES - Christopher
• Sex Tips By Strunk & White: if you double space after the period during cyber sex, it makes you look old.- Matt

Christopher Newgent's FB recap

1874.3 miles, and I don't have enough space to say all I could possibly say about last week's Over the Top Tour, but a quick spattering of highlights are that Matt Bell gets Seth Rogan voice after a few bourbons, Brian Oliu can keep a dance floor going for hours without the party dropping, playing disc golf in tank tops with Tyler Gobble could easily be a new favorite hobby, Laura Straub is as fantastic a reading series host as you might expect and will climb fences she's too scared to climb if you tell her to imagine a zombie situation, her husband Michael still has one of the best laughs ever, Amy McDaniel is the consummate party host, Michael Martone's to-read shelf has to be full to collapsing and I'm so happy to have my book on that shelf, it's always great to carve out time to laugh with Blake Butler and Jamie Iredell, and the Nashville crew of Todd Dills, John Minichillo, and Chet Weise is ultimately forgiving of 4 dudes crashing into their town and slobbering tired in their coffeeshops, still willing to support our books, to buy us wine and keep a tired conversation moving. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the 3 dudes who made the trip with me, and the hundreds of people who made it what it was. I could never tag you all here.

Brian Oliu FB Post

Happy Easter from a Nashville Airport Hotel! We are singing "Hungry Eyes". 5:30am flight back to Alabama. Gonna miss these dudes. Such a great few days & some really awesome readings.

Matt Bell's FB recap

A short selection of the things I learned this past week: That being a vegetarian in the south is about three times the commitment it is in the north. That the people of Tuscaloosa are great hosts and perhaps better dancers. That Laura Straub is among the best reading series hosts I've seen. That Tyler Gobble is the best part of a tank top. That Christopher Newgent is the only person I have never seen lose at arm wrestling (three bout minimum). That I still don't know what the Crimson Tide mascot looks like, but it should look like Brian Oliu, because he Roll Tides harder than anyone. That when Amy McDaniel invites you into her home she makes a mean vegetarian chili and a meaner chocolate chip cookie. That Jesse Bradley will kindly record your reading and have it posted to the internet before you can finish breakfast the next day. That fewer people will come to a reading in Nashville, but that all of them will come drinking afterward, winning their city some kind of percentage-based prize. That being on a Greyhound and then a car and then a car and then a car and then a car is well worth it, if its with these people, or brings you to them and many more. I'm very glad to be home and awaiting Jessica's return from her own travels, but also very grateful to everyone who made this past week so much fun.

Bunch Of Pals Asking Me Questions: Part 3

Where can I find some awesome MC Hammer style pants? - Laura Straub

I rarely speak of this because I’m afraid he’ll demand them back: my high school best friend actually bought those pants for an 80’s themed Christmas karaoke party we had at the Dairy Queen we worked at in high school. He wore those and an Iron Maiden shirt. We lived together in college and I would add them to my laundry and wear them around the house. Eventually, I moved out and kept the pants. One day, he said he hated me and I said I probably hate you too and we never spoke, especially of the pants, again. So I guess you could see if he’s found a new pair.

(Sadly, I won't have these for the tour. I left them in Muncie SAD FACE)

What if God was one of us? - Ryan Rader

I’d have a legit reason to believe.

Who are your biggest literary crushes (alive or dead)? - Laura Straub

What does the word "crush" mean anymore? I thought I knew what it meant, but now I'm not sure. I remember "crushing" as being like I wanna leave that person on the mantel of my heart and look at them when I go into the kitchen to get some popcorn. Now, it's more like I wanna buy that person a beer and let them talk and I'll laugh and maybe if all goes well we can swing our legs over the side of the front porch and I'D BE SO HAPPY.

Actually, these are probably similar answers to who do I most admire in the scene, as far as the alive ones go, since sexuality has been thrown out the window (by who you ask? I'm not sure or don't wanna blame anyone, but it seems obvious, no?)

Add to the list:

- Nick Sturm: absolutely one of the people I enjoy talking to the most.

- Matt Hart: probably the coolest person on earth.

- Abraham Smith: I'm not sure how those poems come out of a human being.

- Melysa Martinez: have you seen that picture of her in body paint? have you talked to her? (I know you have, Laura, so "you" here is everyone and no one and me)

- You: after not seeing you for what five years, AWP was a tease; you're lovely and wonderful and IM SO RIGHT ALWAYS.

Is there any connection between your love for music and your love for poetry/language/literature? - Christopher Newgent

Absolutely, how I came to them, how I experience them, both come from this little stage of yearning inside me, this sense of both wanting to be better adjusted, or at least expressed, whether I'm doing it or living through someone else, and also that human need to be a part of something greater than myself.

I've never been a musician. I've tried to play guitar. I've wanted to learn to play the drums. I can't sing worth a shit. But I'm great at getting stoked and supporting and showing up. So from like 14 years old and beyond, I went to local shows, to see touring bands, friends bands, and whoop and holler and say GOOD JOB. When I couldn't play it, someone else seemed to know the song that would simmer down my silly heart or buck up my chin.

With writing, especially readings, I come to it because the poems and stories and essays that people are reading and writing today speak to me and for me when I'm too tired to get up from your couch. I know this isn't a good answer, I feel like I could write pages upon pages on this, but I think this settles one thing: it's not about me or you or Matt Bell or Brian Oliu or Layne Ransom or Ashley Ford or Laura Straub, for me; it's about that ability to hold each other up, to be a part of something greater than ourselves, to constantly be looking for what I can be a part of today to make tomorrow better, some of my most important life lessons from that sadly defunct In The Face Of War.

Where have all the cowboys gone?

I saw them throwing a pigskin last night on a television, like standing on top of a TV, or maybe it was a picket fence in Ohio. They thought it was a river. They had hats on made of dead things, but maybe their shoes were still alive. Their horses couldn't walk on the blacktop. Their wives couldn't walk at all. It was strange to see a gunfight in a public place and feel okay about it. I'm surprised you can't find them; their hope broke down about 3/4 a mile back thataway. It has a lowercase t painted on the side. Each of them looked alike but also completely different. Brown jeans and silly necklaces, glow sticks in their mouths. Except one, who didn't even look like himself. He looked like a pro football player because he was wearing a helmet and shoulder pads.

Who are you? - Ryan Rader

Probably closer to these 16 and 18 year old versions of myself than I'd like to admit.

Why do you think hardcore/punk held such importance for guys like us when we were growing up in the Midwest? And how do you feel about that kind of music now that you're a college graduate? - Ryan Rader

We Midwest teens have a strange struggle between frustration and hope. It is both with others and ourselves. Sure, we're pissed about how shitty our communities are, but we're also pissed that we haven't done more, tried a little harder in school, volunteered more at the hospital, spent less money on Taco Bell, to aid in that betterment. That might be the first time I've admitted that. Yet still, we seem to have a hopefulness that is inextinguishable, even though it may hide in the garage at times. We see the potential in the friend who will probably be a rad firefighter, if he just finishes high school. We know there's a good chance we might say something that makes someone not kill themselves someday. And that is where punk/hardcore music, at least for me and the bands I listened to growing up (Comeback Kid, Have Heart, In The Face of War, Shai Hulud, Welcome Home; feels funny but I'd even put the Distillers in here, who I've never been able to get myself to stop listening to), thrives: in that expression of frustration and guilt and rage, but in that unshakable optimism, no matter how subtle.

Maybe it is because I've moved back home, I'm single again, I'm hanging with a couple of the dudes from I used to back in those days again, and I'm recovering from my most terrible nervous breakdown, but these songs and bands and attitudes mean more to me than ever. Like I've been listening to "Turn It Around" by Comeback Kid on repeat for a few weeks; those two minute blips of THIS SUCKS BUT IT'LL PROBABLY BE OKAY save me again and again.

Do you think your pomes have social relevance? - Christopher Newgent

My poems have as much social relevance as this tiny-tailed cat on Christopher's floor . Does my father have social relevance? Social relevance is my pickup ; my poems are the bed Thomas Patrick Levy likes to ride in. My poems have as much social relevance as a dumb rock. Does Cracker Barrel have social relevance? Social relevance is a cable package ; my poems are a show you've never seen. My poems have as much social relevance as I do. Does homemade pottery have social relevance? Social relevance is skateboarding ; my poems are assholes. My poems have as much social relevance as pygmy goats. Does disc golf have social relevance? Social relevance is here today; my poems are on the road tomorrow.

Why don't you call anymore? - Kyle Broyles

A little messy pile of factors: 1) me moving away; 2) the haunting fact that you knew Sara way before I did (even though that's pretty much irrelevant, I know); 3) I'm a routine guy and you're not and we fell out of "running into each other"; 4) a little disappointment in the fact we didn't hang more when we were neighbors.

Anywhatever, I think you're mega-neat. I'm glad you came to the reading last night. I hope I call you soon.

How about the not very literary just to shake things up: How do you view the role human beings play in context with the natural world, and why? - David Tomaloff

I think my answer to this question can be summed up by explaining the differences between disc golf and ball golf and how they interact with nature and thus how I am a part of it because of the sport (disc golf duh) that I play 4-5 days a week.

Disc golf courses typically are typically in places that are already being used by the public, like parks, or places that exist in kind of a cleared yet unused area, like church land (though these usually suck) or a wooded dump (ELWOOD). Typically, the amount of trees and other plants that needs to be cut out is minimal, and the grass does not need to be maintained beyond mowing. Ball golf, on the other hand, typically, uses specific-to-that-sport land and requires a good deal of artificial maintenance of the grass and trimming of trees and such. I prefer disc golf for other reasons as well, like the flailing grace of the sport and the subculture, but this aspect is super admirable and aligned with what I think as the answer to your question: be minimal in the effect and maximal in the fun, man.

BTW: if anyone ever wants to play or talk about disc golf, I'm more than happy to do this with you. Like stoked.

Which poem was the hardest to pen and why? - Melissa Ewers

Here I'm taking hardest to mean the biggest emotional jut my body experiences when I finish a poem: An Addition of Blank Spaces. I wrote this after reading "King of the Rats" by David Peak at Wigleaf, an intense little smack of a story. It's a wacky wild associative trainwreck that shook me up quite a bit. One of those that you look at and say "where did that come from, dude?" and you're face has no answer. I still am like WOAH WUZZ when I read it.

Here is the start of it:

The webcam is a family man
which makes the teenager

a shotgun answering the chat
request in double-clicked pow pows.

Sometimes a better solution
is to buy a leopard or hide

yourself in a blank reflection
of the moon. This is a hint

towards the survival of 2011.
I can only slaughter a virus

so many times, a lesson a father
should teach. Sturdy, imagine a tarp

over his bald head.

Do you ever worry or think about the distance between the speaker in your poems and you as a poet/person? Are you okay with people assuming you're the speaker, or do you work to maintain that you & your speaker(s) are separate entities? - Joshua Helms

What is it that Dean Young says? Something like "All my poems are autobiographical. I just don't know who they're about." Maybe I'm too emotional, maybe I'm too selfish, maybe I'm not smart enough of a poet-thinker, but I don't worry about this at all. A good deal of my poems in here are "me" as the speaker, sure, but even the ones that are not "actually me," like "An Addition of Blank Spaces," the speaker is a part of me, came out of some wacky feeling, some point of my body sitting in a room, and I have no problem acknowledging that fact. I have a poem in my first chapbook called "Unlimited Texting," which is a sestina with the ending words being text lingo like LOL and BRB, and it is in the persona of a young teenage girl about losing her best friend. That's not me, obviously, never was, but when I read that poem, I feel like that is about me. To riff a bit on what Gregory Sherl said in an interview I did with him awhile back (Is “Where You Were” Realer Than “What You Were Feeling?”) I wonder if it matters who you are, who is talking, and does it matter more than what the speaker is feeling and what the reader is feeling in response? Sure, that can be me, as long as we are all feeling the goodness!

If Rambo and Johnny Castle dined at the Golden Corral, what would they talk about? - Ashley Farmer

Possible topics: the aesthetics of kicking ass, how are the potatoes, how they both have the first name John, war as dance, dance as war, cool painting on the wall, not girls though Castle would try, me obviously

What is your terrible power? - Ashley Farmer

One of my favorite bands, Away With Vega, have a song that goes: "Don't talk to me about rebuilding, because I've lifted up, and I've let down, everyone that I know well." Sometimes that lyric gets in my gut and I'm like GEESH MAN TERRIBLE.