Don't Reason

My poem "Don't Reason" is now a slick pamphlet from Greying Ghost Press. Major thx to Carl for making these:) These will be included in Greying Ghost orders and such. So, I suggest you check out the megarad GG catalog, including wonderful things from Weston Cutter and Joseph Riippi, as well as sold out classics from folks such as J.A. Tyler, Kathryn Regina, Zachary Schomburg, and Nate Pritts. Order some stuff, YES.

Standing In Line For The Beast by Jason Bredle

Standing in Line for the Beast by Jason Bredle

Bredle's a poet I genuinely look forward to reading, a talker, a good talker where sometimes he's moping around or jumping up and down or hiding behind personified images of Apocalypse but I keep on following him around, a sad sack and the lonely wind, who is who, I don't know. My admiration for Bredle, especially in this, his debut collection, is how I'm sometimes tired of his listing, his kaleidoscope of images and memories, his lengthiness, yet I can't seem to not care, to give up, to put the damn book down. There's something endearing about the voice that I can't quite explain (YET?). Having read a good deal of his later work first (Smiles of the Unstoppable is unstoppable), I can say while he's certainly matured in his talkative ways, the core guts of the poems still wanders. And thank the goodness for that!

from "While Anne Reads a Lengthy Poem About Her Grandmother's Funeral and Our Mortality"

I'm reminded of some details Bill told me
about his aunt's funeral in Memphis a few years
ago--a paraplegic whose casket somehow
got tipped on its side while being lowered
into the grave during a thunderstorm. The pallbearers,
Bill included, were forced into the mud
in an attempt to turn the casket right side
up, digging and clawing their way in and out
of the hole, slopping around for an audience
of bereft women in black dresses and red
hats. Finally they gave up and left her
on her side, creeping away in their Cadillacs and ruined
suits, the wives angry at the husbands.

TWO THANGS

1. I had two erasures up at this cool new mag called SCUD recently. They're from an erasure project where I take my favorite posts from the Chicklitz blog and do my thang to them. One from Layne, one from Elysia. I HOPE YOU LIKE THEM.

2. A lot of people are saying some awesome things about Edward Mullany's first book called If I Falter At The Gallows. I tried to do my brain thang and talk about it. Hope it does those incredible poems justice.

SHREDCAT PT. III

Sorry for the lesser quality photos. My scanner was being wacky and chopping stuff in half, so I had to take them with my phone.



Where in the world is Shredcat?
is a good question

when something as essential to life
as the dear skateboarding cat

goes missing from view, when
this stupid earth is a rotting pumpkin.

No wonder the trees grow the weirder
limbs the further up you go.

No wonder the helicopters fly so high.
No wonder the basketball star jumps

and jumps. Go ahead and ask again:
Where is he? Probably in my heart<3

*


He wore an expensive costume
a doctor with an oversized stethoscope
and everyone said HEY YOU'RE SHREDCAT
YOU ALREADY SAVED US

He changed into an oversized sheet
brand new high thread count white
and everyone said HEY SHREDCAT
NICE SPOOKY TRY

He put on an eye patch and hook
trapped kids in nets and stole their candy
and everyone said HEY SHREDCAT
YOU CAN'T HIDE THE GOODNESS

He put on a tutu and did a pirouette
kickflip and the treating families went past
and everyone said HEY SHREDCAT
YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL THE WAY YOU ARE

*


That little yellow light
like a bat with the warmest heart
flies around the kids' heads
those little ghosts and ghouls
like bats with cold wings
SHREDCAT invites them in
for warm apple cider and brownies
shaped like bats with gooey centers
and cold edges.

They steal his skateboard
and eat clumps of his fur.

How terribly we treat our heroes!

*



Them: OMG SHREDCAT YOU GOT FAT
Him: Those brats took my skateboard and left me with all that candy. GIVE ME A BREAK.

SHREDCAT PT. II

Sorry for the lesser quality photos. My scanner was being wacky and chopping stuff in half, so I had to take them with my phone.



A bunch of kids
started a band
called it SHREDCAT
wrote five songs all called SHREDCAT
the lyrics went SHREDCAT SHREDCAT HEY HEY
and
SHREDCAT SHREDCAT STAY STAY STAY
They played them for THE CAT himself
last night
the set so loud so rad so moving
the whole town floated
a few inches towards the sky
except SHREDCAT
who took the ground with him.

*



Now I've had the time of my life
SHREDCAT
No I never felt like this before
SHREDCAT
Yes I swear it's the truth
SHREDCAT
And I owe it all to you
SHREDCAT
'Cause I've had the time of my life
SHREDCAT
And I owe it all to you
SHREDCAT

I've been waiting for so long
SHREDCAT
Now I've finally found someone to stand by me
SHREDCAT
We saw the writing on the wall
SHREDCAT
As we felt this magical fantasy.

*


He doesn't speak the truth
He lives the truth:
Sometimes it's rad to shred
upside down.

SHREDCAT

I've been working on a mini-series of shitty drawings and poems of my hero SHREDCAT, in anticipation of Halloween. I'll post some now and on Friday and on Halloween night. I'm sure you're stoked. Eat some candy.



A million reasons to get into a plane
and fly up high and jump back out.

Being a skydiving skateboarding
cat is one.



We might go
broke soon
but not before
we get our bite
sized Snickers.
YEAH SHREDCAT.



If Shredcat does not exist
the goodness is dead man.

The weight on those paws
atop a skateboard is too much

to bear but he makes it lovely
like a sidewalk littered with candy

wrappers. Here he comes and
maybe the feline kickflips real

good. Or perhaps he disappears
into the bushes. Either way the purr

floating through tonight is an outline
of a wicked ghost we all wanna be

for Halloween. The best things have
names. We call this costume Joy.

National Poetry Month

I started National Poetry Month off by reading at and attending the Slash Pine Fest in Alabama this weekend (more on this soon).

I'm organizing a reading at the end of the month for here in Muncie for NPM.

In between, I'm gonna post a quick post each day including a poem I dig lotz.

Since, I just thought this up a few minutes ago, I'll catch up with three:

April 1st: Day by Jeremy Bauer Jeremy was on the trip with me and read this poem at the reading. I'm happy to see this poem with such a good home, so everyone can see the wicked beauty in here.

April 2nd: Poem (Lana Turner Has Collapsed by Frank O'Hara Discussing my less-than-stellar literary criticism paper for my American Literature class with my great professor Dr. Mix, I was reminded of this poem by O'Hara, a truly enjoyable little thing. AND IT USES CAPS.

April 3rd: Information Kiosk by Jason BredleI finished Smiles of the Unstoppable by Jason Bredle today, so this poem seems appropriate. The energy woven into the listing and repeating is astounding. This is definitely a book I'm gonna do some thinking and writing about in the next week or two.