“Dans la poésie c’est toujours la guerre.”
– Osip Mandelstam
“A poet is not a cable car.”
– Jack Spicer
Dispatches from the Poetry Wars Celebrates the Start of 2018
Dear Fake U.S. President:
As they say in Ghana with a grin, You suck butter out of your saggy bum. Or as they say, giggling, in Haiti, Up yours and the last eighteen generations of your ancestors, you racist buffoon in a baggy suit. In El Salvador they slap their knees and chant, You eat pubic hair with salt dip. He who has the intelligence of a sand trap, the Namibians chuckle, shaking their heads. Accept the fact that you’re as greasy as a triple bacon cheeseburger deep fried in rat fat, shout the good-humored Bolivians, waving from their burros. Why don’t you take a crap in your hand and slap yourself in the face while bulldozing the olive orchards of persecuted Zionist settlers on the West Bank, say the funny Palestinians. Ass-dandruff-will-not, they sing in merry Syria, dancing at weddings. May your fingers turn into treble hooks just as you get a horrible itch in your privates, they chortle in joke-happy Somalia. What they say in mirthful Nigeria is probably best of all, they say, sitting outside their huts, May the cat eat you and then may a giant lizard eat the cat and take a dump on a rock so hot the fetid crap sizzles in the sun. Or as they say in Mexico, where there are more drug houses than automobiles, May the bow of a violin enter your anus repeatedly. Even in grumpy old neo-fascist Norway they tweet that You are Lord of donkey balls. You couldn’t caddy for Malcolm X, and he didn’t even play golf, wink the gleeful Vietnamese, from their banana leafed shacks.
Anyway, even as the world looks on in dream-horror at what U.S. America has wrought, welcome to the first 2018 issue of Dispatches from the Poetry Wars. Peruse our prodigious index, bookmark the site, and come back for more. As usual, we have assembled a veritable cornucopia of riches for your pleasure and stimulation. And more is soon coming, so don’t stay away too long. We had the Astro Poets do a chart for us, and they’ve predicted that as the moon enters Aquarius and Venus ascends in Cancer, or something like that, we will bring together more readers than Poetry, the Paris Review, the Boston Review, and LARB combined. We welcome your comments, observations, criticisms and praise as we continue to address the diversity of the being-together that is Dispatches. We’re already more impolite, self-deprecating, and flat-out fun than any of those self-important places, so the Astro Poets are probably onto something. They’d better be: We had to pay them $3000 for the reading. So welcome, and read on.
Dispatches from the Poetry Wars: A poetry shithole since 2016 – and proud of it.
Please note that the pdfs are more readable when downloaded.
The full index of new material is available at the bottom of the home page.
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[pdf-embedder url="http://dispatchespoetrywars.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/Tamas-“Of-heaven-not-as-lemma-not-as-leaven-but-as-substance-we-enfold…”-for-Gerrit-wrd.pdf" title="Tamas - “Of heaven not as lemma not as leaven but as substance we enfold…” for Gerrit...
Dispatches – January 2018 Update
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Dear Emily Post-Avant: Advice for Poets
andrew whiteman & Ryan Noth (sonic poetry) – Eats Darkness John Clarke/Charlie Kiel – from Skald Song, Buffalo (1985) Jonathan Williams (a Time Capsule Video) Robin Blaser interviewed by David Lampe on Canadian poetry (1986) Amiri Baraka on Charles Olson and Sun Ra Robert Duncan and John Wieners reading Anne Charters 8th Annual Olson Lecture
PoBiz Stock Index Updates
Xi Penn – Poems of the Late Tang (a book of magazine verse)
- At Tan Yuan Ming’s Mountain Hut, near Frontier with DPRK
- Outside a Dusty Southern Town, I Pause and Write a Poem, Thinking of the Great Departed Poet, Ch’iu Chin
- Lost Amidst the Cliffs, I finally Arrive, and Am Startled by Mei in an Ancient Room
- At Five-Forked River, with Mei Yao Ch’en
- Near Black Mountain, I Remember Yin Yao
- Overlooking the Great Tidal Bore at Zhang Ridge with Zhang Qiang