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.
A one-line haiku appears in the issue of brass bell: a haiku journal that posted on Feb 1st.
Editor Zee Zehava runs the haiku alphabetically by the poet’s first name, so scroll down to the Gs for Glenn Ingersoll.
A haiku about peanuts appears in haiku kontinuum, a haiku ezine out of Hungary.
My haiku appears in issue #2 on page 27 (they number the pages).
Follow the link to a haiku about serving coffee.
I discovered Spillwords when a friend published there. When I looked at the submission guidelines I saw that they would consider a single haiku. I’m not sure why that appealed to me so much. Anyway, I'm glad they liked the one I offered.
The poem
appears at Rejection Letters.
The editors, on how the ezine came about:
“Rejection Letters was founded in April 2020 by D.T. Robbins. It was kind of a joke at first. “Let’s publish fictional rejection letters!” Of course, this was after getting, like, four or five rejection letters in one day. Because rejection letters suck, even if they’re warranted. We all cope in our own weird ways. But then it became something else, something I’m not too sure how to describe, to be honest.”
It may have started as a lark, but it’s going strong.
The poem
appears in flux
Fifth Wheel Press calls itself “an independent community-focused publisher of art and writing by queer, trans, and gender non-conforming creatives.”
Three poems are up at inksac:
The editors at Cephalo Press describe their mission:
“At heart, we’re interested in literature that explores the highs and lows of human experience. … Our aim is to publish work that resonates with people, questions societal beliefs, pushes boundaries, and makes people think. We want to publish brave, often experimental works, that sit proudly outside mainstream publishing.”
Alan Bern, Rebecca Radner, and I collaborated on a photo/poetry piece. We’ve collaborated before on renga, but this is the first time we included (and responded to) photographs. The editor of Arteidiolia wanted to publish our “Renga of Haiga” (renga being a haiku chain; haiga being a combination of haiku and image), but he only wanted excerpts. Alan, Rebecca, and I decided we were okay with that. Just one of the photos is mine. The accompanying words are more of a mix of contributions.
It turned out well, I think.
“I’m Not Waiting” appears in the first issue of New Note Poetry. Scroll down to page 20 (or maybe 21, depending on viewing platform).
The issue published to the web on December 31st. So I included it on my list of 2021 publications.
Editor Nathan Nicolau writes, “One day, while listening to Blue Note jazz records and admiring their sound and album artwork, an idea dawned … : What if I could do this but with poetry?”
The pandemic continues, so the opportunities for in-person engagement continue to be limited. I can send out copies of “Thousand” to people I like/admire, a project that doesn’t require spending time in company. It would be nice to do more of that, but I do what I can. (Yes, this is a standard script.) I did one Zoom reading in 2021. I suppose I could look for more zoom opportunities this year.
My two book-length manuscripts are out to publishers. My poetry manuscript (currently titled “Nobody You Know”) is out to one, and has been rejected five times since 2017. “Autobiography of a Book” is out to nine, has been rejected 12 times, also since 2017, though most were just in the past year, which means I’m keeping things moving. There are publishers who will consider prose without a reading fee. It’s a struggle finding any poetry publishers who will. After an ezine editor told me he sent his first novel to 100 publishers, I set a goal of 100 for my manuscripts. I’m 20% of the way there with “Book”.
My thoughts on reading and contest entry fees would be a screed for another day.
There was talk at the library of restarting programs. But that was before omicron, the latest covid variant. We’re back to wait-and-see. I miss both my poetry programs, the Poetry Circle and Clearly Meant. In 2021 I finally got permission to post the Clearly Meant videos on the Berkeley Public Library YouTube channel. I have one or two more to edit and post.
I will continue to put together new batches of poems to send out, and continue to circulate those that haven’t yet placed. In order to reduce the power of rejection I hadn’t been keeping track of rejectors. It’s come to the point it’s more helpful to know where pieces have been than to shield from my tender view the gruesome pile up.
#keepyournumbersup … Rather than the goal being to get into any particular venue or achieve a certain number of acceptances, I make the goal pure numbers. I let the number be vague, but more is better. This is really the only aspect of the process the supplicant has control over. No control over length of time editors take, no control over their responses (if any). So worrying about such things is not fruitful. Worry takes energy, and if I have energy, it’s better to use it sending work out.
One thing happened in 2021 that I didn’t foresee. “Thousand” got taught. Two writing teachers included “Thousand” in lesson plans. Both told me that their students were intrigued by the method of composition (100 words a day for a thousand days). I don’t know how one might follow up on that. But things happen that surprise you.
What more to look forward to in a new year — nurturing/enjoying relationships, travel, reading, writing, healing.
It’s been a sunny 2022 so far. Nice, as we always say in California, but we need the rain.
A quick list of the places that included something of my work in 2021:
bottle rockets
Soul-Lit
Chronogram
Haight Ashbury Literary Journal
fresh.ink
Second Chance Lit
Last Leaves
brass bell
ubu
GAS
Mercurius
The Sparrow’s Trombone
Unlikely Stories
Heliosparrow
New Note Poetry
placed in single poem contest:
DiBiase Poetry Prize runner up
readings:
for the 50th anniversary of their fan fiction annual, Oziana, I read a short story
Bird & Beckett series hosted by Kim Shuck
Berkeley Public Library Clearly Meant reading & interview series hosted by Glenn Ingersoll (years of videos finally available on BPL youtube channel)
in classes:
two writing teachers included Thousand in their lesson plans
Four haiku posted on 14 November at Heliosparrow.
This one, among them:
a breeze
shades and unshades
the leaf litter
