Glimpse issue #55, Spring 2022, which contains my poem “I am throwing away” is now available in an electronic version at the magazine’s website.
The 2022 blog post announcing my receipt of the hard copy appears here:
link
Glimpse issue #55, Spring 2022, which contains my poem “I am throwing away” is now available in an electronic version at the magazine’s website.
The 2022 blog post announcing my receipt of the hard copy appears here:
link
In 2021 I started sending out the poems “To Try to Fall” and “I used to think you were beautiful.” By the time the nice editors at Dark Winter decided to take them up, 50 other venues had already declined the opportunity. In case you are curious:
2021
Thrush, Cimarron Review, Agni, The New Yorker
2022
Arcturus, Magma, As It Ought to Be, Comstock Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, Nashville Review, Chestnut Review, Glass Mountain, Gordon Square Review, Limp Wrist/Glitter Bomb Award, Black Fox Literary Review, Baltimore Review, Columbia Journal, New Welsh Review, Suburbia Journal, Dillydoun Review, Asheville Poetry Review, Scapegoat Review, Foglifter, Route 7 Review, Lavender Bones
2023
Mollyhouse, Southland Alibi, 805, Broadkill Review, Pidgeonholes, The Maine Review, Emerson Review, Roi Faineant, Bluestem, The Ignatian, New Orleans Review, Gigantic Sequins, Showcase, Miracle Monocle, Red Coyote, After Happy Hour Review, Jake, A-Minor, Labyrinth Anthologies, Lumina, Lunch Ticket, Rock Paper Poem, Meetinghouse, Trace Fossils, Slippery Elm
A quick list of the places that included something of my work in 2022:
Arteidiolia
inksac
flux
Rejection Letters
Spillwords
haiku kontinuum
brass bell
Sparks of Calliope
Crowstep Journal
BlazeVOX
Glimpse
Forum
Cerasus
Sparkle & Blink / Quiet Lightning
Bullshit Lit
Poetry Super Highway
Lost Paper
Over the Transom
Otoliths
Trash Panda
Thieving Magpie
A Special Mention in their poetry category from the 2022 Pushcart Prize Anthology for the poem “Personal Testimony,” which was nominated by Marsha de la O and Phil Taggart, editors of Spillway when the poem appeared there. “Personal Testimony” was also later included in Quiet Lightning’s Sparkle & Blink.
I am working with AC Books to bring forth Autobiography of a Book as a real book. An announcement with full details coming soon.
Three poems have posted at Thieving Magpie:
They appear as part of Winter 2022/2023 issue #20.
The editors say they “take their art and mischief seriously” and seek to publish those who do.
Zee Zahava edits Lost Paper, a blog in which she posts collaborative/collective works. This month’s piece is a collection of sentences beginning “Sometimes …” Zahava does not credit each sentence, only listing at the end all the writers who contributed.
My sentences are two:
Sometimes I need to take no medicine at all.
Sometimes at night the moon is too bright to look at directly.
Follow this link to read them in the context of the Lost Paper piece.
Trash Panda, vol. 3, summer 2022, contains four of my haiku. The magazine is hard copy subscription only, and the editor does not sell individual copies — and is already out of the issue anyway. Too bad. It’s a handsome magazine, and it was a good read.
appears in the issue 67 of Otoliths.
It’s a big issue. Lots of poetry &c., most of it by people I don’t know. But I do spot some familiar names, especially happy to see those of friends, acquaintances, poets whose work I follow: Alan Catlin, Dale Jensen, Richard Kostelanetz, Caleb Puckett, Sheila E. Murphy, Eileen R. Tabios, Kit Kennedy
The new issue of Jonathan Hayes’s hardcopy literary magazine, Over the Transom, has arrived. Issue #30 includes six of Autobiography of a Book’s brief chapters:
in which the book invites the reader in at the creation
in which the book pleads, then scolds
in which the book opens up and shows you its parts
in which the book evicts a tale
in which the book passes out blessings like money
in which the book moves quickly through gender to sex
Jonathan Hayes had read earlier published excerpts and asked me if there were any chapters still available. So I sent him a bunch. I have been working with a book publisher on Autobiography of a Book, so these excerpts will likely be the last published separately.
Over the Transom also includes a tribute to Don Skiles, as well as writing by Glen Chestnut, Mel C. Thompson, Klipshutz, and Simon Perchik, among others. Simon Perchik died this year. Perchik’s short poems always contain surprising turns, although I have yet to really fall in love with one. Maybe they stay too abstract for me? When I’ve looked for role models in how to be a poet, Perchik has enticed. He published everywhere. He was methodical about sending work out. I don’t gather that he developed relationships with other poets, though. He remained an outsider. I don’t know whether that’s what I want, exactly, but I certainly feel like an outsider. I have this possibly naive sense that writing poems is what is important, and that somebody somewhere will read the poems if you just put them out there. I have some evidence for this belief, but I think I cling to it because I’m no good at schmoozing or networking.
Perhaps apropos, these lines from Don Skiles as quoted in Over the Transom:
“I feel certain there are many writers, told in myriad ways their writing is of no significant meaning or use, who face this serious and continuing crisis, the nausea, every day. I want to say to you here, my friend, to continue, to go on …”
Over the Transom is available from Jonathan Hayes, jsh619@earthlink.net
Over the Transom, 120 San Lorenzo Blvd #3, Santa Cruz, CA 95060
Last Wednesday (10/20/22) I attended an SF LitQuake event featuring poets from the 2022 Best American Poetry anthology. I sat next to James Cagney, a friend from our early SF po scene days (the 90s). I said to James, “I was thrilled when I saw that you got a poem in there.” James: “Not half as thrilled as I was.” No doubt.
Other poets I’ve met over the years were included and read that night — Sara Mumolo, Sam Sax.
I thought I was going to have fun, seeing people I knew (or sorta knew) being spotlighted. But the old feelings of being overlooked, ignored, unread began to swirl. Despite the head noise I did manage to be there and to listen. James and Sam gave dynamic performances, and I generally liked what I heard from the rest. “Fun” wasn’t quite what I had, but, you know, I wish them all well and since the LitQuake event I have been reading the anthology.
BAP guest editor Matthew Zapruder said series editor David Lehman forbade him from apologizing for the “Best” appellation, so Matthew took a moment at the beginning (no Lehman around) to apologize to the night’s audience. Matthew didn’t claim the poems included were the Best, asserting instead that they were strong poems that affected and stuck with him, and that he probably failed to see many that could have made the cut. There are poets doing great work “including in this room” who ought to be similarly recognized, Matthew said. Matthew does not know me. I have no idea whether he’s read any of my poems ever. But I could imagine myself one of the poets doing great work that he was apologizing to.
No, I don’t write poems for the fame. That would be useless. Or to achieve publication. The times I did were, well, unsatisfying. I write poems because the place of the poem is an important place for me to spend time in. Once written I send the poems out for publication because just leaving them to sit in the journal doesn’t honor them. They go out into the world looking for those persons who might find them of interest. They often wander for some time.
So the next day I am at the library shelving books and I come across the 2022 Pushcart Prize anthology. It’s rare that the branch libraries get a Pushcart anthology. The branches tend to get books the buyers anticipate will go out frequently. All us writers want to get into the Pushcart but the truth is, it spends more time on the shelf than in readers’ hands. Berkeley Public Library shelves such less popular reads in the more generous stacks at Central.
In 2021 I got nominated for the Pushcart by two different publications. Small presses are invited to nominate poems, stories, and essays that they’ve published during the eligibility period. Each press or magazine is limited to a handful of nominations, so, presumably, they only send in their favorites. Thus it is a real endorsement for an editor to nominate one’s work. My poem “Personal Testimony” appeared in Spillway and was nominated by editors Marsha de la O and Phil Taggart. Chapters from Autobiography of a Book appeared in Witty Partition and were nominated by editors Hardy Griffin and Bronwyn Mills. I later heard from Hardy Griffin that the Book chapters had made the first cull; that is, one of Pushcart’s screening editors had decided the work was worth advancing to the next editorial rung. We heard nothing further.
I would have had to sign a contract or something had anything of mine gotten into the anthology (i.e., “won a Pushcart prize”?), and nothing like that came my way. But as an old reader of Pushcart anthologies I knew there was a section in the back of the book that listed pieces that hadn’t gotten in but that the editors wanted to praise. So there I am shelving books at the library and I see the 2022 Pushcart anthology and I pull it down. On page 463, just after the final story, and just before the comprehensive list of “presses featured in the Pushcart Prize editions since 1976,” are the “Special Mention” pages. The mentions are separated into Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry categories. A parenthetical above the list says, “The editors also wish to mention the following important works published by small presses last year. Listings are in no particular order.” No particular order — not even alphabetical. So I scan the Fiction list. My name is not there; Book was not mentioned. I don’t bother to run my finger down the Nonfiction list. But maybe Poetry? There he is, Glenn Ingersoll. In Poetry. For “Personal Testimony.”
Well! Isn’t that cool. It would have been really cool to have the poem itself in the anthology. It would have been really cool to have had a poem included in Best American Poetry. Neither of those things happened. But getting this mention was a nice pat on the back, wasn’t it? My work was read last year, and it affected some people, stuck with them. That’s nice to know. Nice to hear about.
A paragraph about holey t-shirts appears at Lost Paper.
Authors appear in alphabetical order, so scroll down to find "Glenn Ingersoll."
Lost Paper is edited by Zee Zahava who also does brass bell haiku.
The theme for this issue of brass bell haiku is “kitchen.”
The poems are organized alphabetically, by the first name of the poet, so scroll down for “Glenn Ingersoll.”
Three poems that I sculpted from lists of titles drawn (decades ago) from the UC Berkeley library catalog are now up at Bullshit Lit:
Bullshit Lit will be celebrating its one-year anniversary in October. Good for them! They tell us, “Inspired by a stack of silly poems, BULLSHIT is the antithesis to those flowery submissions calls for, like, ‘the deepest echo in your heartcanyon.’ We don't take ourselves that seriously.”
Quiet Lightning, the long-running SF Bay Area reading series, had its final regular reading on February 7, 2022. QL hasn’t closed up shop. They are continuing to sponsor special events. It’s just that the monthly (most lately bimonthly) “literary mixtape” is no more.
Quiet Lightning was a new creature on the scene when it debuted. I was used to the standard reading featured two poets and an open mic. Sure, you could find group readings or all-opens or features without opens. But QL curated its readings, that is, if you wanted to read, you had to submit your work ahead of time, and the curators for that month would put together the pieces they wanted in the order they preferred. When you read for them, you were vocalizing the chosen piece. Readers were cautioned not to ramble on about how grateful they were or how they came to write the poem/story/essay. “Just read it and get off the stage.”
I kind of missed the poets apologizing for an unworkshopped poem or shuffling through pages for one that was “right here.” But it was an interesting new idea, a hybrid between a magazine and reading — and you got both.
It took me several tries to get into Quiet Lightning. I bought past issues of Sparkle and Blink, the little magazine that is available at each reading and which includes all the work read on a particular night. I don’t know that they helped me figure out what a “Quiet Lightning poem” was, but judging by what of mine ultimately did get picked, I’d say socially relevant or personal testimony pieces had a leg up. It was nice that they didn't mind if a piece had been previously published. "Personal Testimony" was originally published in Spillway.
Quiet Lightning moved around, every month popping up in a new venue. That was ambitious, but must have been a logistical hassle. "Since December 2009 we've presented 1,790 readings by 960 authors in 146 shows and 119 books, selected by 77 different curators and performed in 91 venues, appearing everywhere from dive bars and art galleries to state parks and national landmarks," QL says. Come the pandemic QL migrated to Zoom, as so many did. Thus the library you see behind me in the video is my own.
Sparkle and Blink #113 is available online.
The readings were all recorded, too.
Glenn Ingersoll reading "Personal Testimony"
Two chapters of Autobiography of a Book appear in Cerasus Magazine #4, 2022, edited by John Wilks:
“in which the book looks forward to the mouth, its ruminations, and passage therefrom”
“in which the book, peevish, declares a preference"
Cerasus is a hard copy magazine. There is an ebook option. You can order copies at
Forum, the City College of San Francisco literary annual, includes two of my poems, “What Must Be Used Is Readily Available” and “This Tunnel."
On May 25th I participated in a Zoom publication reading. I don’t know if it was recorded. I can’t find a link to video on the Forum website. The issue may yet be posted online, but that isn’t up either. They did announce that they were handing out contributor copies in a pub near the City College campus, so I Barted over. Here are photos of the issue (Spring 2022, vol.14 no.1) and my poems:
Glimpse, spring 2022, issue #55, includes my poem “I am throwing away.”
Fun to be included with Marge Piercy, Ron Koertge, Stephen Dunn, among others.
I’m not sure how one gets a copy of an issue, as editor George J. Searles says he doesn’t sell them. He doesn’t even offer subscriptions. Not paid ones, anyway. He might send you one if you wrote to him and asked nicely?
In May these poems posted at BlazeVOX, issue #22, Spring 2022:
I’ve had poems in past issues of BlazeVOX — BlazeVOX #19, Fall 2019, and BlazeVOX #16, Spring 2016.
Plus, there’s this blog post about the poems being read.
I have been collecting possible epigraphs for Autobiography of a Book. I don’t know how (or whether) I will use any of them. The epigraphs I’ve posted so far have personified books in some way. The lines below do something a little different. They address the materiality of the book and how that affects the reader’s experience.
A slight texture to the book’s first pages,
discernible to fingertips alone. Blank pages,
which I thought were meaningless, are now adding texture
to my attention.
from “Ill-Timed (24.2)” by Rusty Morrison
I did my best to reproduce the spacing the poet uses.
source:
Beauty is a Verb: the new poetry of disability
edited by Jennifer Bartlett, Sheila Black, and Michael Northen
appears in the first issue of the new Crowstep Journal.
“Crowstep Journal is a space that explores themes around ancestry, the natural world, the extra-ordinary in the ordinary and the magic of everyday things,” say the editors.