We’d like to congratulate 3 former Drunken Boat contributors, JoAnna Novak, Paul Lobo Portugés, and Lucy Anderton for being semi-finalists in the 2011 Snowbound Series Poetry Chapbook Award.
Want to check out their skills?
The German sky
did not care
that we were gone—nor,
I expect, did the friends, nor
the cherry trees. I left
red welts down my back. Mother
said: this hurts me
more than you. Where
did she hear that? I thought
she was an unmarked
child. I recall
those days smelled
thin. There were hedgehogs
milk out of saucers
—Lucy Anderton, O Memory, How I Choose You
[click to read the full poem and hear Lucy read her poem]
Cigarette butts make unusual mosaics in the so-called lawn of the heavily policed park on Mr. Wilshire’s boulevard. Gringo kings talk about breeder reactors and beget ribbons of fear in los vatos of the City of Angels. A footloose muchacho throws his paper plane past billboards of powdered white pudenda admired by hairless blue blonde never-never-land boys wrestling in surviving dandelions. Across the loud street of modern spirituals lowriders drag their jailed pain screeching past lonely Joe’s t.v. repair shop. Booty commercials flash upside down in the smog streaked neon window.
Brown buffalos get English in workaday schools a meaningful tattoo of unforgiving blood if they’re lucky. Bullets curse barrio poets who eat them like dulces then spit out histories of pain.
—Paul Lobo Portugés, Barrio Journal East L.A.: Living the Recession
[click to read paul's full essay]
—thatched and avocado green and orange, a bunch of colors he’d never be able to stomach—and, tangled in those sheets, he’d sleep jagged, dreaming of getting out of the country with some of the honeys and babies whose scalps he’d massage during the day, those girls in polyester and denim bellbottoms with asses in fruity candy-colored panties, asses that reminded him of those dumb postcards Alfonse kept sending him from Italy—his older brother, apprenticing with the real masters, those men in Milan that would fly here or there for a weekend, their scissor skills, their blow drying, their foil applications so masterful that masterpieces all over Europe—
—JoAnna Novak, The Hairdresser
[click to read joanna's conceptual fiction]
Drunken Boat’s new Reviews Editor, Shira Dentz was recently interviewed by The Rumpus
Shira Dentz is the author of black seeds on a white dish, nominated for the PEN/Osterweil Award 2011, a chapbook titled Leaf Weather, and door of thin skins, forthcoming from CavanKerry Press.
Shira Dentz: Yes! I regard the visual aspects of all text as a construct in its etymology or definitions, along with various layers of referential meanings. Together with whatever else my poems are doing or are up to, they’re sites in which I probe language—they’re riffs in which I discover what I’m up to through language. In so doing, I take into consideration the whole body of a word, and punctuation is a sign with particular uses and therefore part of the text with which I am working. As a poem evolves, I take cues from what’s occurring on the page—a process that is not dissimilar to many poets’. In the particular poem you mention which has the line that I drew from for the book’s title, I wasn’t aware of the many uses/meanings of the apostrophe until I wrote one down in the context of developing this poem. Lo and behold (and I included this moment of awareness in my poem), as I deconstructed the apostrophe, per se, it became my poem.
For a taster of Burke’s poetry, you can read (and hear Burke read!) “Absolute Desire,” one of her poems originally published in Drunken Boat and featured in her new collection.
And what draws your eye is:
a lack of parallel structure.
Inattention to the layering
of hundreds of nanowires.
We do not detonate
in numerals. We leave that
for the gods. And who
is the goddess of numerals? What
obelisk do we devote to her?
Drunken Boat, the online journal of arts and literature, seeks work for a Handmade/Homemade Folio. This folio will include handmade, homemade and letterpress chapbooks, one-of-a-kind editions and broadsides. We envision a marriage of the visual and textual, as a complement to Drunken Boat’s mission of reinventing the printed page. Work might include collage work, film, photography, scans of text objects and applicable forms of visual poetry. The folio is slated for Issue 16 (Winter 2012) and will likely be linked with the annual Handmade/Homemade exhibit at Pace University, Westchester Country (March, 2012).