Showing posts with label December 2016. Show all posts
Showing posts with label December 2016. Show all posts

12/30/16

NEW in the Rag Queen Periodical

"but I can't suddenly turn off my own venom
or turn it into vanilla snack pack pudding. I can't"
(because I'm Blood Pudding :) )
partake of Blood Pudding Press editor/poet Juliet Cook's poem, "My tendency to feel as if expressing myself is wrong", which appeared in the Rag Queen Periodical last week

HERE - http://www.ragqueenperiodical.com/single-post/2016/12/21/My-tendency-to-feel-as-if-expressing-myself-is-wrong

12/29/16

Another NEW Review of A Red Witch, Every Which Way

Another wonderful new review of "A Red Witch, Every Which Way" (the collaborative poetry book by j/j hastain & Juliet Cook, published this year by Hysterical Books), written by Stephanie Kaylor on Goodreads.:
"One side a positive/ healing/fetish violence./One side a negative/stab wound/fantasy/reality./Never ending hemorrhaging hemisphere. Never/ending lavish/light."
This collaborative book felt like a haunted house-- disturbing yet deliciously so, a journey one walks into and doesn't want to leave despite the grotesque nature of it all; the internal, the walls, the decay, the macabre and its traces. The interviews at the end were as rich as the poems, breaking down the barrier between process & product as swiftly as they did the same with the bodily & textual."

A NEW Review of A Red Witch, Every Which Way

A 5 star review of j/j hastain and Juliet Cook's collaborative poetry book, "A Red Witch, Every Which Way" which appeared via Amazon earlier this month!
Thank you Wayne F. Burke!
"A macabre work full of gory details and with a kind of surrealism that makes the reading of it a delightful adventure. "Pond scum will burst/out the eyes/once the eyes have been/revised into a film" (New Superhero), "...Box/elder stability/yearns for torn pages/in a series of open books" (Clawing At the Confessional), "Meniscus pirouettes/into maximus piranhas/chiming within/broken bones" (Conjured Talisman), "thinning/ossein to massage/scrim by which to scry/mutant shrapnel made" (Access Achieved Then Denied).
Weirdly beautiful language usage, full of surprises, twists and turns, and wordplay: language adroitly used, as in "Paradoxical Flight": "when a road kill/cat/black/silk cradles a/hyper notch/broken down/purring/crotch panel/rotting neural/blotch/an aural/round path/so partial/pussy extract/carefully oozing/from new particles/networks/jet stream/proving/an either or/model..."
Does it make sense to me? Hell, no. Does it matter? Again, no. As someone once said to the late Frank Sanford concerning his work, "I don't understand it, but I know what you mean."
These examples I've used should not be construed as representative of a flighty or loose style of writing because this is a disciplined work of serious stature also with an underlying structural design (3 "Acts"). I gather the last part of this statement intuitively and cannot say I have the slightest idea what the structure consists of. And you know what? It does not matter. This is a book to read and reread. A phantasmagorical journey where "Horses run through hoarse/barns. Hemlines narrow their slits." A book that asks such deep questions as "How do we engrave an orifice?" and answers "Coagulate all the swag/down our throats and then/gag ourselves..." Readers--enjoy."

***

12/22/16

Happy Horrific Holidays from Thirteen Myna Birds! (The last Myna Birds flock of 2016 is HERE!)

Happy Horrific Holidays from Thirteen Myna Birds!

Gifts of new poetry for you by Matthew Hall, Craig Firsdon, Timothy Thomas Cole, Mitch Grabois, Erin Renee Wahl, Jennifer MacBain-Stephens, J.C. Mari, John Grey, and Catfish McDaris (and one older poem still remaining by Howie Good).

"We eat flames and don’t rinse - the slightest interference could potentially destroy everything - lock up your daughters - carnage comes when the creeping crescent wanes - black and white butterfly - of a dead and forgotten poet - your shine smaller - red proves the prophecy - Money is that thing that makes me special - out the windows with laughter - The gut bucket fills up immediately - Mummies are dancers - Church spires pointing toward hell - a silence like all the mouths are sewn shut "

HERE - http://13myna.blogspot.com/