“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.
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The Heavenly Tree Grows Downward Who bury the dead must from the grave establish a habit Who bury the dead lead forth the bride stainless in dress the morning- glory creeps stone lizard Who bury the dead in fetal position knees pulled up to the chin Who bury...
OBU Manifesto # 213 Ah, Harvey Weinstein! Harvey Weinstein is gross, OBU avers. Sexy young actresses come in and out of his hotel rooms continually, hoping they’ll be given parts in his next project. And Harvey is a consummate professional; he looks only at their...
Two letters sent on Feb. 9th, in response to the posting at Dispatches of the introduction to A Question Mark above the Sun: Documents on the Mystery Surrounding a Famous Poem “By” Frank O’Hara
From MG Stephens, poet, collage artist, and author of a history of the Poetry Project at St. Mark’s, forthcoming from Dispatches Editions. Kent: I love that poem, whoever wrote it, and I've written a response to it, but I couldn't locate it before writing this...
Talisman A Journal of Contemporary Poetry and Poetics, has a Special Section on Dispatches' contributor and artist extraordinaire, Basil King, including pieces from many Dispatches contributors: A Special Section on Basil King edited by Burt Kimmelman and Martha King...
Introduction to A Question Mark above the Sun: Documents on the Mystery Surrounding a Famous Poem “By” Frank O’Hara
[This redacted epigraph, a single-line quote by Kenneth Koch from Brad Gooch’s biography of Frank O’Hara, City Poet, is to the following sense: Koch remarks that he almost fell to the floor from where he was seated on “discovering” ‘A True Account of Talking to the...
Photo by Brian Lucas A Tribute to Dale, by Whit Griffin I was first made aware of Dale Pendell's work by Gerrit Lansing and...
"That endless literary train of creeping conformity and quietude is enough to make one's enlarged heart self-eviscerate on impact with its rococo cattle catcher. However, there are antidotes and anti-agents willing to explode the symmetries, simplicities,...
A beautiful 17-year-old girl did a terrible thing And when a proud Israeli officer Once again invaded her home She slapped him She was born into it and in that slap Were contained 50 years of occupation and humiliations. And on the day the story of the struggle is...
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