Adrian Blevins: Of Madmen and Spies
I take as my theme the mentally ill, understanding as I do just how tepid the bathwater is. So let’s not neglect for a moment the voyeur’s own affliction—her writerly … Continue reading
Adrian Blevins: Late-Breaking Yew-Berry News from the Madman’s Love Shack
The catalogue of infractions I have committed against this world would overflow a small library, for what it’s worth. I pilfered a pack of gum before I could talk; I … Continue reading
Adrian Blevins: Word Gluttons and Rhythm Sluts, Book Letches and Paragraph Drunks — The Magic of Metaphor
We all know that Art is not truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize truth. –Pablo Picasso With your permission I’d like to take a few minutes … Continue reading
Adrian Blevins: In Praise of the Sentence
What do cocktail party talk and poetry have in common? Like Barbara Hamby at the end of her gorgeous “Millennium Rave,” I come to praise the sentence in poetry “in … Continue reading
Adrian Blevins: An Ode to the Erection
I sing, for my daughter, of shanks and shafts and the endearing contrast between the mind’s affairs and the body’s undiscriminating inclinations.
Jose Padua: The Complete Failure of Everything
We got there right before the guy who ran the slam started coming around with the sign up sheet, and as he walked by I said to him, “I’ll try … Continue reading
Jose Padua: The Birth of the Spoken Word Demon
I’d been back in Washington for a month when, standing by the magazine racks at Tower Records, I spotted someone I knew on the cover of High Times. It was … Continue reading
Jose Padua: Becoming a Poet
Ever since I can remember I wanted to be a poet, and in the early 80s I began sending my poems out to magazines in the hopes of making the … Continue reading
Jose Padua: How I Tried To Escape The Sick World Of Poetry
The rules were that you had to give your name and occupation before reciting your first poem. Naturally, I tried to evade this unnecessary formality which to me seemed akin … Continue reading
