083111

coffin
coughlin
caw fin
call Finn
Kaw fi'in'
caul fun
koff in
sneeze

Kickstarter for anthology

I have work forthcoming in 140 AND COUNTING, an anthology of twitter literature originally published in Seven by Twenty. Check it out: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1431077765/140-and-counting-an-anthology-of-twitter-literatur

Note that Kickstarter provides rewards for donors. The rewards for donating to this:

$5: A copy of the anthology. (Since the book will cost $5, this is essentially a pre-order of the book.)

$10: The anthology, and two other books (poetry chapbook Blueshifting by Heather Kamins and poetry collection The Glaze from Breaking by Joanne Merriam).

$25: The above, and a thank you in a sponsor listing in the book and on the website of Upper Rubber Boot Books for the next year.

$50: The above, PLUS a one- to two-page manuscript evaluation by the editor (she may comment on aesthetics, word choice, setting, characterization, description, pacing, plot holes, marketability, and other things to consider when revising your work) on up to ten of your poems or a short story (under 5,000 words).

$100: Free copies of every book Upper Rubber Boot publishes for the next five years.

There's a video with details on how the funding works: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1431077765/140-and-counting-an-anthology-of-twitter-literatur

one o them rocks

White nodular limestone and dark gray shale. Suitable for framing, perhaps. Formed on a shallow sea bed and rather deeply buried at least twice, as mountains grew & were worn away.

467 ft (142 m) below surface, Cambrian Conasauga Formation, more than 1/2 a billion years old, photo by Ann Arnold. 2-inch-wide (5 cm) drill core.

083011

the garden
lops into view
proximal perch gone

082911

the messages
stop coming and SETI ends
c u soon

082811

we could have used
some of that rain Texas said
dry cracks

Review of The Orange Tree

Ganzglass, Martin R., 2011, The Orange Tree, Peace Corps Writers Press, 418 pages, ISBN 9781935925033, perfect bound trade paperback.

The Orange Tree is a moving story of the interaction between representatives of two very different cultures. Helen and Amina, an elderly Jewish woman and her Somali nurse, meet in an American nursing home. The relationship that develops between them is the nexus that brings together both of their families and unfolds for the reader a story of the 20th century in central Europe, in the Horn of Africa, and in America. There is a lot of history in this book, but it is not a history book. It is about life, It is about today, and most of all it is about human beings dealing with life and what it brings.

One thing I particularly like about this book is the flashbacks. If movement back and forth through time is written poorly the narrative thread can be disrupted, never to be repaired. Ganzglass knows how to step out of the present and into the past. He shows us vividly how our past creates our selves. And what a fascinating past there is. My ancestors come from Europe. I have read about the wars that shaped the continent, but my knowledge about these things was impersonal, even though they are part of my history. Now, through this story of the life of Helen and her family, it's personal. In The Orange Tree we don't learn as much about Amina and her family, and I knew far less about Somalia than about central Europe to begin with, but it feels authentic. And just as personal.

The Orange Tree is a first novel, but it was written with keen insight into human nature and a well-developed ability to express that insight in words. The author, an American, worked for several years in Somalia as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Clearly, he has maintained a compassionate interest in the Somali people. When cultures meet they don't have to clash. Dissimilar people can strengthen one another, and The Orange Tree shows one way that can happen.

I recommend this book. I read it in two sittings. If my body could still afford the effects of staying up all night to finish a novel, I would have done that with this one.

082711 or 270811

should have hitch-hiked
away from my old man
Bachmann's neighbor

082611

if texas came
where would we put it
get the shopvac

Interesting essay on evolution & religion

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/on-faith/post/evolution-threatens-christianity/2011/08/24/gIQAuLVpbJ_blog.html

1344

somewhere on this desk
a paper careers toward due
need a tardis

082411

flowers bring birds
and hide the feeder
so tall this weed

082311

too many chores - to think

Turkish delight, in an amusingly hasty manifestation.

Yakamoz menu

082211

why does this
heavy phone stay so dark
papoerweight

Hope you're hungry

What anthropology is good for

Well, a lot of things, but most recently, for letting me know about a brand-new Turkish restaurant in Tuscaloosa. If this is not the first Turkish restaurant to ever open in Tuscaloosa I would be shocked and surprised. It is called Yakamoz, and has been there for three weeks. I cannot honestly recommend the Turkish pizza, which was recommended to me, although it was pretty good. I can't recommend it, because we also tried the beef adana kebab and – OMFG. It costs twice as much as the pizza but is more than twice as good. The restaurant has a pretty substantial menu and we are definitely going back to try some of the other seven kinds of kebabs, four kinds of sandwiches, three kinds of omelettes, etc. The only real disappointment is that they have ice cream, but it's western ice cream. Persian ice cream is to die for, and it certainly seems consistent with the breadth of their cuisine. Be that as it may, if you're in Tuscaloosa, look on Hargrove Rd. about two blocks west of McFarland Blvd. It is in the strip mall that used to have a camera shop, right across the parking lot from the other stripmall that has the comic book shop. It faces east and is on the south side of the road. You will find it.

Expect another report after we try some of the other dishes. But frequenting the only representative of a new cuisine in town if it is good, and this one is good, is a sin. Seriously. Go there.

082111

vines tighten their grip
on the old gray fence
lost clippers withdraw

The Royal Scam

They didn't play that one, one of my favorites. There wasn't time for ALL the hits. Babylon Sisters, FM, no. But they played till ~11:30, about when bands were tuning up on The Strip, I suppose. And once Donald Fagin got going, he was full of energy. I like the Tuscaloosa Amphitheater, too. Very user friendly.

082011

I went back
to my old school
only once

Poetry or nanofic

My writing will be in 140 And Counting, an anthology of twitlit – pre-order here: http://is.gd/IhJ8WK

It's all good, from 7x20.

a new publication by me -- not poetry

I have a review of a children's book about evolution in the latest issue of Reports of the National Center for Science Education.

http://reports.ncse.com/index.php/rncse/issue/current/showToc

081911

I just cleaned
this desk last month
after dark it moves

081811

don't stand cos you can't
save a bundle on all
the best parking

crustaphobia

Conditional Decapods



If the Lobster Men invade next week, then we'll need this here big pot.

If we keep this humongous pot, Tammy Lou will have to park on the street.

With that big Plymouth parked out front, there's no way Cousin Phil will believe we're not home.

If Phil comes in, we'll end up playing that stupid game.

I swear I wouldn't mind if he would use clay pigeons.

Loretta and Dan will take offense, them being pigeon fanciers you know, and one thing will lead to another. Just like last time.

If one thing does lead to another, when Phil hits the garage with the RPG, that's all she wrote for this big-ass pot.

That'll make us sitting ducks when the lobsters attack.

Given that, the best thing to do is get drunk and stay drunk, and for that we need some cash.

Sell the dang pot.




End

review of dreams and nightmares 89

this review already appeared on a blog, but it is now available at a new review website that also contains reviews of other recent genre publications.

http://www.versification.org/2011/07/dreams-and-nightmares-89/

081611

green wheel spinning
in a tabular cage
how is this efficient

081511

used books
we read but the authors
don't eat

081411

the wind picks up
everything and throws it down
we lift what we can

081311

crystal tears
limn the ancient blooms
far from any sun

environmental education workshop in Alabama

An environmental education workshop will be held in Alabama this coming March. The deadline for proposals by would-be presenters is September 1. Please let me know if you are interested and I will forward you the information. The proposal application is very brief but you won't be successful if you don't know what you're talking about.

In a few months I will bring this up again in case you are someone who might want to attend the workshop.

I am not connected with this workshop in any way, except that I might submit a proposal for a presentation.

deep fat day

so who knew
buying a car would be so
oh

Tiny trilobite

Three views of same specimen. Trilobite about 1.5 mm long. Agnostus sp. Conasauga Formation, Upper Cambrian, Alabama. Photo by Ann Arnold.

081111

pancreas replaced
by the crockpoteas
needs less watching

08010011

foggy windows
possibly the AC
is cranked too high

080911

spilling my bowl
the police paw thru my things
no poems here

The Tin Men

I got my copies of this new collection of poetry by me and Kendall Evans. The cover, by Mitchell Davidson Bentley, is beautiful. I am looking for reviewers. Anyone interested? The collection contains two Rhysling nominees, one of which won.

Ghost crabs toss their balls away

See the little hole near the left side of the image? That's the crab's burrow, which it was cleaning out after a storm (Tropical Storm Isidore).

080808 + 3

ah symmetry
thy lone remaining urn
crash

080711

paisleys writhe
across my desk
agony in print

080611

rain paused
on leaftip and ladder
no roof work today

080511

she leaves a secret
mark on every door
pollen patches packed

080411

each wall leans to each
and strains to hear
they don't speak

080311

stowaway
in the duodenum
comin up

poem for a day

The call


I am late,
flitting through midnight streets
flapping my arms in the caustic fumes
emanating from the factories
of damnation

The full Moon
gazes down through a nebulous
shroud at the city, my city
I run and do not tire to the Hill
of stones

Before the stones
a shuffling crowd
a swell of chanting
my name, and me at last
passing through

Torches, a shout
a parting of the haze
I gather myself and rise
up onto the stone and look
upon them

They clamor
I can't hear their words
I hear only the Moon
I feel only the pulse of Her
It is time, I fly up to meet Her
with joy

--

what happened here

the heat and rain
raise weeds from the dead
diminutive colossus

sunday poem

blueberries shriveled
or picked by now
conserve our sack

where'd the time go

chapter
11 at last
9 2 go