Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Google Reader: An Abecedarium pt. 1

Mark Lamoreux, because he is noble and also because his blog title is non-letters never googles himself although he counts prayers to gods he does not understand on beads made of sighs. No, I don't care about Marxism or symbolic economies or that you dreamed of Trotsky: you have nothing to sell that I'm not selling I'm not buying. In Wyoming I google myself on a computer so fast it dodges between thick flakes of snow; in the microseconds it takes the page I am seeking with my name on it to load, a map of Annandale and environs flashes upon someone's inner eye. Lynn Behrendt has googled herself the number of times equal to the aforementioned thick flakes of snow plus one. Alan May googles his apocryphal text with the alacrity of tennis ace Dinara Safina who has upped her level of fitness in order to contend with Melbourne's intense end-of-summer heat. He cannot return Google's heavy topspin backhand, tho. Armavirumque has been inactive for over a year making me wonder in what weak state my mind could have been in when I subscribed. At that moment, I must have been googling a something other than myself. In between posting excessively on Al Filreis Al Filreis runs the Kelly Writers house and PENNSound. His daily self googles equal but do not exceed the number of the megabyte equivalency of sound files on PENNSound in .wav format. As/Of As/Is is a blog of spiders googling themselves in order to find the secret to NASDAQ. Their names are etched into hypertext stre(am)ets. Dodie Bellamy googles herself daily; I know this because on Belladodie she writes shit about how the number of hits the algorithm deduces for her name is equal to the flecks of chipped beef in her barf the last time she horked (2006). Cheryl Ball is not normal but close according to her Bloomington blog I haven't backcommented her about Sirc but mean to. Bobby Byrd's Bobby Byrd linked his way from Ron Silliman's Silliman's blog to my Google Reader subscriptions on account of his knowledge of border poetics in New Mexico altho last week his last posts he shat upon the inaugural poem. It was shit. I know. I've googled it twice. Josh Corey teaches at my alma mater. I met him once before his daughter was born but after the misspelling in his book title. His blog posts per year are less now altho he googles himself more. Gabriel Gudding visited his class and made him sad I think decrying poetry. Gabriel Gudding's Conchology & Dendrology if that is the blog's real name after shapeshifting is next. Between writing about the hair on contemporary male poets stomachs and its shapes in relation to the geometries of potato chips resembling famous silhouettes, he googles himself and amasses facebook friends. I only read Mark Scro(o)ggins blog because Bob A. would advise it altho I like it altho I laugh at Prof. Scroogins tiff with the ghost of an undergrad past whose chains' rattle frequency is in line with the number of time ol' Scroggins googles the letter A. The main force of CutBank Reviews is the usable field which can be folded and saved to spit gum into. I'd never saw a book reviewed there I had any interest in reading until they included past teach Jane Mead whose verse now teaches grapes to dodge rain. O Patrick Durgin your da crouton silent these 8 months. If only I were to have a way to know you are safely googling yourself; Chicago has been late so frigid and I've no assurances of your safety. Bill A. recommended Geof Huth's dbqp blog on account of their mutual love of vispo. I can see why. Huth incidentally was googling himself when he came up with the most radical parsing of the inaugural poem. I mean like skater rad. Dr. Daisy is a tekky blogger I thought would be like reading Wired distilled. No posts in a month and a half. I'll never google her again. I thought at one time Doug Lang late of douglang'sdcpoetryblog could teach me to paint like de Kooning I have always wanted to paint or write like Coolidge I have always wanted to write I have not and he has neither. DougLang is sleeping the google must be running. Tom Beckett's e-x-c-h-a-n-g-e-v-a-l-u-e-s is universally lauded in fact why just yesterday jan 27 the aforementioned geof huth posted a vispo dedicated to him on the blog. Tom Beckett has googled it several times to see how his name looks on a blog not his own. It looks fine Tom. I subscribed to English 402 when I was in the class bearing that name. During my time in the class the blog bore updates. Now I just want to reread Galway Kinnell's The Avenue Bearing the Initial of Christ Into the New World to see if the poem has grown better this title tho I doubt. I just googled it and most people say the title is still better you can read the poem it's long but don't say I didn't warn you. I still have a fondness for Galway Kinnell because I felt like his Book of Nightmares aptly describes my nightmares. If you don't believe me, google it. Galway Kinnell would. My friend Larry runs a sporadic jazz blog called Environs and sometimes I wish he'd publish more posts on there. Sometimes it's too morbid: Johnny Griffin, Max Roach, Elvin Jones, Oscar Peterson. Chano Pozo will never die tho. I hope Larry knows that. Johannes Göransson's Exoskeleton has, in fact, seemed angry. In fact, Johannes Göransson googles his name + anger twelve times daily, honoring the number of translated books published by US last year. Andrew Lundwall has proclaimed his book Pilot (Johann the Carousel Horse) "a new favorite" and "one of the most interesting books he's read lately." I subscribed to Clay Banes EYEBALL HATRED because I hate eyeballs. They're always so veiny and gross--I don't buy all that window to the soul bullshit. Not even on sale. Then I unsubscribed because Clay Banes never posted anything I liked on his blog. Then I resubscribed because I found a post on his blog that sounded like it was worth reading when I was googling. I wonder if Clay Banes was googling me at the same time? I doubt it, but still there are dried apricots and apricot tea. If you are at all interested in seeing Gov. Schwarzenegger's penis, you can find a picture of it on Faits Divers de la Poésie Américain et Britannique. I didn't know I was interested until I saw it. I saw it again tonight in Kent Johnson's Epigramititis. I thought once was enough. It wasn't. I just googled Schwarzenegger's penis and the top hit had this to say "I suppose the big deal is he is a Republican and they are all up tight about penises." Who isn't uptight about dicks? I'm uptight just knowing there are neo-cons out there who can't deal with cock. I don't recall why I subscribed to Paul Sweeney's From Boston to Berlin. I care not for Brenda Shaughnessy, Charles Simic, or Paul Muldoon. I am interested in Constantine Cavafy but not necessarily what Simic might have to say. Mental note: google Cavafy. In workshop once a poet Roberta F. contributed a poem with a phallic lighthouse in it called Upon Reading Cavafy. I wonder if she's seen the Schwarzenegger dong shot. I know I'm stuck on it now that it's late and I saw it again. It's been over a month now since Nick Piombino published a Contradicta on fait accompli (dec 17). Nick more contradicta that's really the only reason I read your blog. His last Contradicta read thusly:

When things get too complicated the starting point disappears into the google leaving me in confusion with glum hits staring into snowy infinitude.




*******



Count one friend for every time you google yourself.

I am titilated by Didi Menendez's GOSS 183 because she has the nude cover shot of Jennifer Aniston on there and I have not passed the age of desiring yet. I was once published in OCHO. If you don't believe me google it. Because I love Green Integer books I subscribe to their blog but I must say it is impossible to know if Douglas Messerli googles himself although I just did for sp purposes. I never tho have had a compelling urge to really read the blog. Just like a sea urchin it looks good but it takes me a while to get up enough gumption to actually eat it. As for Green Integer, I'll have the abalone. Matthew Guenette's Guenette's blog has been quiet he's been injured and has a young child. I admired his History of the Home Gym I first read in ACM 44&45, but that was before I could spell poetry and wasn't prepped to ready treatises about bowflex-like contraptions that could have haply saved Guenette's knee if only he were as world-wise and exercise savvy as his poem might have us believe. As Muench says in Tom Waits then "Well, the night is too dark for dreaming" and every night is that way for me. So I bid you adieu for now. I'm going to google myself repeatedly call my wife and look out at the too-dark night until the snowflakes come.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Time

How will they
ever run again
or walk on walls
are yellow and
tidy lines are
only as straight
as we thought them
bind when they did
shame there ain't
dried fruits around
to record life
as it happened