i can't believe i forgot to post it, but back in April my Florida Gators basketball team won the NCAA Tournament. it was a very exciting time in the Barrett household, let me tell you.
anyway, a few more months of summer drudgery before football season begins. i only hope we have half the success our basketball team had. that's a lie, i hope we have more than half, but you know what i mean.
02 June 2006
01 June 2006
savage heavens
Christopher Cunningham has been gracious enough to ask me to contribute more regularly to his own great blog, Upright Against The Savage Heavens. in that vein, i've decided to write a weekly column, Background Noise, that will be posted every Sunday.
I've posted the first installment, a introduction, and will put up the very first real column this Sunday.
Funk Soul Brother Check It Out, Now!
I've posted the first installment, a introduction, and will put up the very first real column this Sunday.
Funk Soul Brother Check It Out, Now!
surfing the web
so, i was out there surfing from link to link on various literary websites and i came across one i had never seen before.
Plagiarist Poetry
there are numerous articles and poetic analysis, and it sports a magazine. but, it's the articles that intrigued me most. there are plenty to choose from, from a host of categories including: individual poets, the art of writing, reading poetry, among others.
there is a fabulous set of letters from a young fan and writer to Ranier Maria Rilke that is worth its weight in gold. beautiful stuff.
anyway, thought it was a great site worthy of a mention. now, i gotta get back to reading about the art of writing.
Plagiarist Poetry
there are numerous articles and poetic analysis, and it sports a magazine. but, it's the articles that intrigued me most. there are plenty to choose from, from a host of categories including: individual poets, the art of writing, reading poetry, among others.
there is a fabulous set of letters from a young fan and writer to Ranier Maria Rilke that is worth its weight in gold. beautiful stuff.
anyway, thought it was a great site worthy of a mention. now, i gotta get back to reading about the art of writing.
31 May 2006
apartment life is hell
you are suddenly awoken by the deep, guttural throttle of a humongous, diesel truck. GAGUHGAGUHGAGUH. headlights pierce your bedroom window; lighting everything as if it were the middle of the day; throwing shadows into the dark recesses of the room. GAGUHGAGUHGAGUH. it's 12:07am. you roll over, trying to ignore it. trying to sleep through it.
the inconsiderate prick taps the gas, revving the engine. the frequency of the gurgling increases, then slowly drops. he does it again. you look at your clock. it's 12:14am and your alarm is set to go off in less than 6 hours. GAGUHGAGUHGAGUH. it continues. endlessly.
apartment life is getting old. very old. i actually don't mind living in apartments made from old houses, or even townhome apartments, but these gigantic apartment complexes with 12 families per stairwell and 3 stairwells per building, and 30-40 buildings in the complex is just insane. For those who don't want to do the math in their head, that's somewhere in the neighborhood of 1000 to 1500 families per complex. the average family in Utah is 5 people (some areas that's as high as 7, AVERAGE. no kidding!) which means upwards of 5000 people in this one fucking complex. jesus christ. and with the considerate:inconsiderate ratio being at about 25:75, that makes a whole helluva lot of fucking people who just don't give a shit about anyone else.
to make matters worse, the family above us (the ones who got up early on Sunday mornings (see earlier rants)) moved out, to our great elation; however, another family, less considerate than the first, moved in and, apparently, are unaware (or just don't care) that people live below them. their terror of a child runs and bangs and throws shit all day and night long. the parents are constantly slamming doors and, for some reason, have a fixation on the goddamn sliding glass door (which we can hear loud and clear as it is being opened and closed). i can only imagine them being some form of subhuman, country bumpkin living in the city for the first time and enamored by the special, rolling door leading to their porch.
anyway, sorry about my rants. i'm just tired of waiting on this infernal house.
i looked back and noticed that my last post about the house was in January, and we had just had our foundation poured, but no framing yet. well, fast-forward 4 months and we have framing, walls, plumbing/electrical/insulation, drywall, and wall texturing. next time we hear from them (or go to visit it) we should have paint and they should be beginning tiling and carpet.
at least we're on our way. even if it is 4 months later than we were told.
the inconsiderate prick taps the gas, revving the engine. the frequency of the gurgling increases, then slowly drops. he does it again. you look at your clock. it's 12:14am and your alarm is set to go off in less than 6 hours. GAGUHGAGUHGAGUH. it continues. endlessly.
apartment life is getting old. very old. i actually don't mind living in apartments made from old houses, or even townhome apartments, but these gigantic apartment complexes with 12 families per stairwell and 3 stairwells per building, and 30-40 buildings in the complex is just insane. For those who don't want to do the math in their head, that's somewhere in the neighborhood of 1000 to 1500 families per complex. the average family in Utah is 5 people (some areas that's as high as 7, AVERAGE. no kidding!) which means upwards of 5000 people in this one fucking complex. jesus christ. and with the considerate:inconsiderate ratio being at about 25:75, that makes a whole helluva lot of fucking people who just don't give a shit about anyone else.
to make matters worse, the family above us (the ones who got up early on Sunday mornings (see earlier rants)) moved out, to our great elation; however, another family, less considerate than the first, moved in and, apparently, are unaware (or just don't care) that people live below them. their terror of a child runs and bangs and throws shit all day and night long. the parents are constantly slamming doors and, for some reason, have a fixation on the goddamn sliding glass door (which we can hear loud and clear as it is being opened and closed). i can only imagine them being some form of subhuman, country bumpkin living in the city for the first time and enamored by the special, rolling door leading to their porch.
anyway, sorry about my rants. i'm just tired of waiting on this infernal house.
i looked back and noticed that my last post about the house was in January, and we had just had our foundation poured, but no framing yet. well, fast-forward 4 months and we have framing, walls, plumbing/electrical/insulation, drywall, and wall texturing. next time we hear from them (or go to visit it) we should have paint and they should be beginning tiling and carpet.
at least we're on our way. even if it is 4 months later than we were told.
30 May 2006
rejections/acceptances
in the past 4 months, these are the rejections/acceptances i've received:
--i was rejected by a Hurricane Katrina anthology put out by Southeast Missouri State called: Hurricane Blues. oh well. i should know better than to expect to crack an academic mag.
--i received an acceptance for 2 poems to appear in an issue of remark. edited by a contributor to this blog, Chris Kornacki.
--i received a rejection from The Knoxville Writer's Guild for an anthology they are publishing. the rejection said they are seeking subs from East Tennessee writers only. again, wrong place at the wrong time.
i haven't submitted much over the past 6 months, so there isn't really much to report. i recently sent a submission out to Nerve Cowboy and i'll update about the verdict when it comes in.
--i was rejected by a Hurricane Katrina anthology put out by Southeast Missouri State called: Hurricane Blues. oh well. i should know better than to expect to crack an academic mag.
--i received an acceptance for 2 poems to appear in an issue of remark. edited by a contributor to this blog, Chris Kornacki.
--i received a rejection from The Knoxville Writer's Guild for an anthology they are publishing. the rejection said they are seeking subs from East Tennessee writers only. again, wrong place at the wrong time.
i haven't submitted much over the past 6 months, so there isn't really much to report. i recently sent a submission out to Nerve Cowboy and i'll update about the verdict when it comes in.
29 May 2006
i forgot
to mention what kind of things, poetically speaking, i've received lately.
my buddy Glenn W. Cooper has book of poetry, a joint-chap with Michael Estabrook, out with Nerve Cowboy's Liquid Paper Press, titled methinks i see my father. i've not seen the book yet (though it's in the mail), but i have been priviledged to see the poetry and artwork and, trust me folks, this is going to be one helluva fucking book. do yourself a favor and pick this up. for $6 it's a deal.
my buddy (mentioned in the previous post) Christopher Cunningham has a new chapbook of poems and letters (And Still The Night Left To Go: Poems and Letters) coming out soon by Bottle of Smoke Press. I received a small broadside of one of the poems the other day. Simply brilliant. This book will be amazing. If you've not had the pleasure of sitting back on a cold evening, drinking a beer, maybe some Miles Davis or Rachael Yamagata on the stereo, reading one of Mr. Cunningham's letters, then you've truly missed out. i'll update when the book is ready. i can't wait to get my hands on one.
my buddy C. Allen Rearick has a new joint-chap venture with Greg-O, from GreenPandaPress, which is available now. Limited to 69 copies, so pick one up soon. i hope Mr. Rearick will post a reply to this with the info on how to get one.
lastly, i received word from Eric Dejaeger that he would like to do a dual-language English/French chapbook of my poetry later this year. i'm very excited about this, of course, and will pass on more information as it becomes available.
there's some good stuff out there. more good stuff on the horizon (including some new chapbooks and broadsides from my own Hemispherical Press (once we move into the new house) by Christopher Cunningham, Owen Roberts, C. Allen Rearick, Michael David McNamara and others). keep a eye here for updates.
my buddy Glenn W. Cooper has book of poetry, a joint-chap with Michael Estabrook, out with Nerve Cowboy's Liquid Paper Press, titled methinks i see my father. i've not seen the book yet (though it's in the mail), but i have been priviledged to see the poetry and artwork and, trust me folks, this is going to be one helluva fucking book. do yourself a favor and pick this up. for $6 it's a deal.
my buddy (mentioned in the previous post) Christopher Cunningham has a new chapbook of poems and letters (And Still The Night Left To Go: Poems and Letters) coming out soon by Bottle of Smoke Press. I received a small broadside of one of the poems the other day. Simply brilliant. This book will be amazing. If you've not had the pleasure of sitting back on a cold evening, drinking a beer, maybe some Miles Davis or Rachael Yamagata on the stereo, reading one of Mr. Cunningham's letters, then you've truly missed out. i'll update when the book is ready. i can't wait to get my hands on one.
my buddy C. Allen Rearick has a new joint-chap venture with Greg-O, from GreenPandaPress, which is available now. Limited to 69 copies, so pick one up soon. i hope Mr. Rearick will post a reply to this with the info on how to get one.
lastly, i received word from Eric Dejaeger that he would like to do a dual-language English/French chapbook of my poetry later this year. i'm very excited about this, of course, and will pass on more information as it becomes available.
there's some good stuff out there. more good stuff on the horizon (including some new chapbooks and broadsides from my own Hemispherical Press (once we move into the new house) by Christopher Cunningham, Owen Roberts, C. Allen Rearick, Michael David McNamara and others). keep a eye here for updates.
well hot damn
the weather has changed. it's cold and gritty outside, now, but the sky is so blue it's as if you're stuck in the lattice of a sapphire looking out. small clouds cling to the mountains like an infant primate to its mother. the sun is bright and clear, but the air is still crisp.
it's been a long, long time since my last update. i don't even know if anyone is still around; if anyone still remembers me; if anyone still cares. there were numerous reasons for my absence, but let's just say the rumors of my demise (now matter how self-created) were greatly exaggerated. or, if not GREATLY exaggerated, at least hyperbolized a bit. i'm not dead. i've not quit. i'm still here. i'm still writing, or that is to say, i'm writing again. and i'll be here for a long while. at least as long as the cosmos feel i should be.
what have i been up to? not a whole helluva lot. but, i needed the rest. i needed the break. our house is still NOT yet completed (more about this later). it's getting humorous now, almost. there's probably a month left on it, but they'll stretch it out to two, no doubt.
fuck it.
like i said earlier, i've been writing again. things were difficult for me for awhile, there. i lost my way. i got wrapped up in my own bullshit and stuck in some kind of negative biofeedback loop. there are a few good friends to thank for helping me out of my "funk". you know who you are. THANK YOU. the last time i was writing this regularly was over 15 months ago. now THAT'S a fucking writer's block. jesus.
the country still has a moron at the helm. and he's downright determined to fuck over everyone. well, fuck him. and his goverment. and his fucking tax cut. fuck it all.
i've been posting a bit over at Christopher Cunningham's fabulous blog Upright Against the Savage Heavens. you've heard me talk about Mr. Cunningham before. This man is the real fucking deal when it comes to poetry. he's also quite political and has a few interesting things to say about the current state of our union.
that's about it. waiting on the house, writing some wry, little poems, working, and trying to stay alive just one more day.
it's been a long, long time since my last update. i don't even know if anyone is still around; if anyone still remembers me; if anyone still cares. there were numerous reasons for my absence, but let's just say the rumors of my demise (now matter how self-created) were greatly exaggerated. or, if not GREATLY exaggerated, at least hyperbolized a bit. i'm not dead. i've not quit. i'm still here. i'm still writing, or that is to say, i'm writing again. and i'll be here for a long while. at least as long as the cosmos feel i should be.
what have i been up to? not a whole helluva lot. but, i needed the rest. i needed the break. our house is still NOT yet completed (more about this later). it's getting humorous now, almost. there's probably a month left on it, but they'll stretch it out to two, no doubt.
fuck it.
like i said earlier, i've been writing again. things were difficult for me for awhile, there. i lost my way. i got wrapped up in my own bullshit and stuck in some kind of negative biofeedback loop. there are a few good friends to thank for helping me out of my "funk". you know who you are. THANK YOU. the last time i was writing this regularly was over 15 months ago. now THAT'S a fucking writer's block. jesus.
the country still has a moron at the helm. and he's downright determined to fuck over everyone. well, fuck him. and his goverment. and his fucking tax cut. fuck it all.
i've been posting a bit over at Christopher Cunningham's fabulous blog Upright Against the Savage Heavens. you've heard me talk about Mr. Cunningham before. This man is the real fucking deal when it comes to poetry. he's also quite political and has a few interesting things to say about the current state of our union.
that's about it. waiting on the house, writing some wry, little poems, working, and trying to stay alive just one more day.
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