The Poetry Foundation cordially invites all kids and grown-ups to the following events with our Children’s Poet Laureates, past and present:
Each of us contains multitudes, but, as we all know, the multitudes can be pretty dull. Thank heavens, then, for Myself, who arrives on the scene via By Myself, a sort of Everybody’s autobiography by the poets D.A. Powell and David Trinidad.
It begins:
To put it in two words: disaster struck. I was born on June 27, 1880 in Tuscumbia, a little town of northern Alabama. I was never coddled, or liked, or understood by my family. My mother’s child-bearing had been dangerously botched by a fashionable doctor in New Orleans, and forever after she stood in fear of going through it again, and so I was an only child . . .
Everybody’s autobiography, maybe, but clearly not just anybody’s. The book is composed of lines lifted from assorted memoirs—astute readers of the above passage may recognize the voices of Tennessee Williams, Helen Keller, and Ethel Waters, among others—and the resultant life story is an uncanny core sample of the surreal life of the celebrity class. It is also more than just a memoir. It is prose poetry in the collagist tradition of Ashbery’s The Tennis Court Oath and Ted Berrigan’s The Sonnets, but with the bon vivant spirit of Diana Vreeland’s D.V.
Recently, poet and journalist Michael Brodeur found himself talking with Myself (or, Powell and Trinidad expertly channeling the book’s multitudinous character). Brodeur asked Myself about some of what the autobiography’s turbulent arc wasn’t able to cover—or conjure. In By Myself’s spirit, these questions have been asked before (follow the links to find out where), but the answers are Myself all over.
***
My grandmother was the storyteller of the family, a woman whose memory seemed to stretch far back into antiquity. She would often perform the roles as she told our family saga, changing voices, postures, even donning wigs. It was the perfect training for my later work as a radio go-go dancer, and I was often conscious of channeling her energetic spoken style through my interviews and later film work. It made perfect sense for me to copy her.

The 2008 National Book Award finalists were just announced by Scott Turow via live web video (watch), and Harriet emeritus Patricia Smith was on the list, for Blood Dazzler (Coffee House). A big congratulations from Harriet.
Read
Patricia’s poems
Patricia’s Harriet posts
Reading Lucian this morning*, I came across this:
“She said that Stratonice the wife of Seleucus had done something much more ridiculous….She set up a poetry contest with a prize of one talent. The theme was ‘an encomium of Stratonice’s hair’….

Executive producers Terrence Malick and Robert Redford turn to poetry in their collaborative venture, Laura Dunn’s documentary, The Unforeseen. The film, which debuted at the 2007 Sundance Film Festival, covers Austin, Texas environmental politics via interviews with environmentalists, real estate developers, a vocal local community, and everyone’s favorite ex-governor of Texas, while peppering excerpts of Wendell Berry reading his poem “Santa Clara Valley” throughout. The poem provides a reflective continuity to the film, making sense, at times, of what is a bitter and emotional battle for the area of Barton Springs in Austin, a battle begun in the ’70s and continuing through the ’90s.
An excerpt from Berry’s poem captures the main arc of the film:
Are you excited for tonight’s GOSSIP GIRL?
(OK, catch your breath.)
Now tell me: Does the show reflect poetry’s diminishing cultural capital?
The new feature on the site, “Diversity Then!,” by the novelist Paul La Farge, looks at the sensational faits divers penned by Félix Fénéon in the early 20th century. La Farge mentions that such swift, lurid accounts—poems in small—inspired everyone from Stendhal to Duras to the Surrealists, but modestly leaves out his own book, The Facts of Winter (2005).
R. Kikuo Johnson’s graphic cover version of “Recitative” (by Harriet’s own A.E. Stallings) appeared recently as part of this site’s “Poem as Comic Strip” series. One of the commenters, Mahendra Singh, included a link…
I’d love to hear comments from our Harriet bloggers and readers on Ben Ehrenreich’s “The Long Goodbye,” his epic, beautifully written piece on the work and life of the late Frank Stanford, up now on the Foundation site.
Pulp fiction fans—check it out!
Levi Stahl’s recent PF piece, “Baseball and verse,” dug up some new and old poems inspired by our national sport. He paid specific attention to this mournful lament for the 1910 New York Giants:
These are the saddest of possible words:
“Tinker to Evers to Chance.”
Trio of bear cubs, and fleeter than birds,
Tinker and Evers and Chance.
Ruthlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble,
Making a Giant hit into a double—
Words that are heavy with nothing but trouble:
“Tinker to Evers to Chance.”
How popular was that refrain?
Anselm Berrigan
Abigail Deutsch
Tonya Foster
Melissa Friedling
John S. O'Connor
Barbara Jane Reyes
Amber Tamblyn
Edwin Torres
Cathy Halley
Michael Marcinkowski
Travis Nichols
Fred Sasaki
Don Share
So long and thanks for all the fish + a question... (8)
Vladimir, Ron, and Gregori (4)
dubious poetry: the palin comparison (3)
To Vaya in the Viva of Time (2)
Indie Publishing: Two Questions, Many More... (5)
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