While the Water Rises Around Us

Like it?  That is the title of my chapbook, which I just learned is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.  I'm so excited (and I just can't hide it)-- see, I'm quoting eighties pop songs.  And it's not an April Fools' joke either (unless you want to do April Fools, April Fools like my son was doing tonight.  Is that meta-fooling?  I am not sure, but I thought it was pretty clever, if confusing).

Anyway, I don't have any details yet.  I just sent them the info they requested for the contract, so I will let you know as things progress.  I cannot close this celebratory post without a HUGE thank you to my Workshop-of- Two co-poet, Angela Elles, who read every word of every poem in the manuscript, multiple times.  And also to Matt, my co-host here at Two Poets, for encouragement and living the life, so as to inspire me and anyone who crosses his path.  And my brother Harlan.  For appreciating my poems and for writing his own.  I could really go on, but since I haven't won a Grammy yet, I'll save the rest of my thank yous for the book.

Please share your good news here!  I don't want to be the only one jumping for joy.  Mirth seeks company.

Happy poeting,
jk

Telephone Conversation

Dear readers,

I'm taking an American Literature with a postcolonialism focus this quarter and our prof. handed out this poem by Wole Soyinka on the first day. It's an intelligent dramatization of the absurdity of racial construction through the  "lens" of the telephone.Thanks for reading!

-Matt



Telephone Conversation 

The price seemed reasonable, location
Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
Off premises. Nothing remained
But self-confession. "Madam," I warned,
"I hate a wasted journey—I am African."
Silence. Silenced transmission of
Pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came,
Lipstick coated, long gold rolled
Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was foully.
"HOW DARK?" . . . I had not misheard . . . "ARE YOU LIGHT
OR VERY DARK?" Button B, Button A.* Stench
Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak.
Red booth. Red pillar box. Red double-tiered
Omnibus squelching tar. It was real! Shamed
By ill-mannered silence, surrender
Pushed dumbfounded to beg simplification.
Considerate she was, varying the emphasis--
"ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?" Revelation came.
"You mean--like plain or milk chocolate?"
Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light
Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted,
I chose. "West African sepia"--and as afterthought,
"Down in my passport." Silence for spectroscopic
Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent
Hard on the mouthpiece. "WHAT'S THAT?" conceding
"DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS." "Like brunette."
"THAT'S DARK, ISN'T IT?" "Not altogether.
Facially, I am brunette, but, madam, you should see
The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet
Are a peroxide blond. Friction, caused--
Foolishly, madam--by sitting down, has turned
My bottom raven black--One moment, madam!"--sensing
Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap
About my ears--"Madam," I pleaded, "wouldn't you rather
See for yourself?"

Merry Merries!

Hello Dear Readers,

Good news!  My poem, "On the Way Back from the Compost Heap Tonight," appears in the December issue of Literary Mama.  You can see it here.  Please leave a comment (here or there) to let me know what you think.  While you're there, enjoy the other poems and essays.  Good stuff!

And now it's back to grading for me.  Hope to hear from many of you soon.

Warmest wishes,
jk

Excuses

Dear Readers,

Please excuse my infrequent updating as of late. Things have been busier than usual. The good news is I've accepted a position as a Ph.D. candidate at Ohio University in Athens, OH. My family and I officially moved on August 21, and I started teaching and taking classes just last week. Unfortunately, I've had less time for creative endeavors and haven't been writing or submitting since the latest rejection of my chapbook manuscript. I have managed to do a little reading, however, and am happy to have discovered a poet claimed by both Kentucky and Ohio (Summers worked at OU and UK). Below is a poem from his collection The Walks Near Athens (1959).


The Winter Walks in Athens, Ohio

Some bricks in the walks of ATHENS, Ohio, 
Are marked with ATHENS, Ohio, 
Encouraging students and other pedestrians 
To pretend to belong where they go. 

Some feet echo comfort in ATHENS, Ohio, 
Moving from ATHENS to ATHENS 
While firmly ensconced in ATHENS, Ohio, 
No matter how studiously pedestrian. 

Perhaps I should mention that harsh winds blow 
In passing through ATHENS,. Ohio, 
And some bricks are nameless, I know, 
And some are crippled in ATHENS. 

Thanks for reading, 

Matt

Fishouse

Sorry for the long hiatus.  It's an even longer story.  But I came across something fun, so I wanted to share.  My "little" brother, Harlan, just went off to college and is taking what sounds like a fantastic creative writing class.  He pointed me to the link for From the Fishouse.  It's very much along the lines of Red Lion Sq.  Here is an excerpt from their site describing their mission:

Founded in 2004 by Matt O'Donnell and Camille T. Dungy, From the Fishouse is an IRS-registered non-profit that promotes the oral tradition of poetry. Our free online audio archive showcases emerging poets (defined for this purpose as poets with fewer than two published books of poetry at the time of submission) reading their own poems, as well as answering questions about poetry and the writing process. Our mission is to use online technology and other media to provide the public with greater access to the voices of emerging poets, and to provide an educational resource to students and teachers of contemporary poetry.

Me again.  I can especially recommend Rosal's "Poem for My Extra Nipple."  I also recommend the exercise.  Might even try it myself.  Just read Harlan's version and it was quite inspiring.

Happy poeting,
jk

More About Red Lion Sq.

Just another reminder to check out this new force in poetry-- a force for hearing the words, not just reading them.  Wouldn't our new poet laureate be proud?  I remember him saying that young poets don't "hear" their poems.  Hopefully, we can set about rectifying that.  If you need extra incentive, know that Matt's poem is featured in the most recent podcast and that one of mine-- "Night Journey in France"-- will be featured soon.  I recorded it on my brother's new Mac, and it was so much fun that we are going to do it again.  Who knows, if I am really lucky, I might end up in one of his shows. 

Happy summer.  Thanks for reading.

Jill

Poem at Literary Mama

Online literary magazine Literary Mama has been kind enough to publish my poem "Libation" in the June (Father's day) issue. The magazine, which "features writing by mother writers about the complexities and many faces of motherhood," inspires me because the editors welcome literature which is somehow outside the normative or typical accounts of parenthood which are so prevalent in mainstream media. Literary Mama asks for writing that "may be too long, too complex, too ambiguous, too deep, too raw, too irreverent, too ironic, and too body conscious for other publications" (About Us). You can access "Libation" here, but please look around the website and explore some of the mag's other features. Thanks to the editors for accepting my work again this year. 

Matthew