Kelly Cooper responds to phrases and images from James Gendron's Sexual Boats (Sex Boats). A Response To Sexual Boats (Sex Boats) by James Gendron
Kelly Cooper I am not knowledgeable or in-tune or out-of-tune enough to understand. I came to poetry through metaphor simile, word play, and white men stayed for the women and the revelation of blank verse and the rawness of the other voice the not-heard voice not heard in my suburban town suspended between the polo club and poverty’s friends: the Red Cross, the Salvation Army, the food stamps. I grasp and turn and read, reread Rereading I tease out fragments You can forgive the one who makes your life amazing Pulling out words that glitter Pulling the wire Laughing at the unknowable The smell of the jagged mint leaf and the smell of one trillion farts pervade the atmosphere I shake my head I skipped a line or three lost my place. On my side of the bed, I made a sweat angel Truth or what passes for memory flickers In fat I see myself distilled more honestly than in my face. My childhood was all ragged knees and pockets full All I ever had in my pockets is still there: hundreds of pounds of it. My eyes burn with anger exhaustion tears You can improve a star simply by turning it. The other side is fresher. It hasn’t been looked at as much. My thoughts can’t track the random elements lacking throughline I get lost. Ideas and I are at cross-purposes, like the wings of Christ. Shake my head again dislodging what-all resetting my eyes I don’t know what an entity is, so I don’t trust entities. Entities are assholes. And look again. Can the judge fulfill her duty and arrest the wicked sun, serial murderer? Or is she more of a pragmatist? Have I chosen only what I recognize? The Louvre is too big. Everyone knows & denies it. Like a hurricane: so big, it competes with the soul. Only what speaks to me. I’m just a haunted question mark. Only what I’m able to hear.
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James Gendron's Sexual Boat (Sex Boats) is one of my favorite random purchases. I was at the Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference when I ran into Anis Mojgani, and asked him to recommend some small presses. He pointed me in the direction of Octopus Books, and I think I ended up dropping about $100 and loving most of the books I picked up from them. Sexual Boat (Sex Boats), in particular was a joy. I picked it for the unusual name, and that it appeared to be filled with several one page poems with unusual grammar. I loved it more than I understood it. So, in many ways, it was like the book and I had dated for several years. The title of this blog post is from an interview with James Gendron where he talks about his writing process and comes off more quirky than pompous, which is pretty rare in poets. The title of the poem is just a rewriting of the title of several of his poems (and his book). I tried to write it in an echo of his voice, as opposed to copying his voice. Then I had the word "echo" in my head, and I had to use it in the first line. Intimate Dinghy (Affable Gondola)
Adam Stone A stranger's name is a cave without echo that I have grown too fat to fit into When someone is familiar but in the wrong venue for me to recognize them I try to climb head first into their name but always get caught at the shoulders Hello and head nod is my nickname for my impending what's it called not amnesia when you have too many memories that you can't see the ocean for the salt oh yes Alzheimer's In middle school I outremembered all my friends and relatives perhaps because there were so few of them My imagination was feral but my memory was a squirrel raised by a golden retriever I still remember all of the answers to the trivial pursuit cards of my childhood but modern adult names are you know yea |
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