This Just In

My copy of Here's To You, a collaborative chapbook by Tony Robinson and Andrew Mister (Boku Books, 2006). Not a moment too soon. Time to steal some lines.

sigh

If you sent me an e-mail this morning and it bounced -- try again now.

Tonight's Late Nite Confession

Mixed metaphors make me swoon.

The Goodnight Show

MIPORADIO'S TOP TEN COUNTDOWN

Discussion I Need To Have With Gideon

She's just not that into you.

She=Darla, the cat

Scratches to the head and arms don't seem to be making an impression -- not a permanent one, at least.

He'll learn.

Will he?

Today's Personal WTF

I don't give two shits that somebody I never liked in college was behind the Abercrombie and Fitch girlcott -- and I don't care if she's now really fat. I'm way over that whole tried to sleep with my boyfriend thing that happened 14 years ago. (Ok, maybe I'm mildly pleased she's a cow, but I'm being honest about the mild.) Although two months ago I would have cared very much to know your wife was 8 months pregnant with your second child. It's kind of weird for the first news of such event to be a text message with only a picture of a newborn and her name. But congratulations, I think, if that's what you're trying to announce.

Haven't been blogging much lately. I'm still shaken over news that Hooters Airlines is closing up shop. Now if Chris leaves me, I have nothing to fall back on.

That and I'm trying really hard to catch up on work, reading manuscripts and editing my own.

That and I don't have much to say.

All I can think about is in 20 minutes the raspberry Jell-O should be fully gelled and I can finally eat it.

I like Jell-O. Plain Jell-O -- none of that floating fruit crap.

Well, not exclusively plain, I suppose, I like Strawberry Pretzel Squares a lot. As a youth I enjoyed Jell-O shots, although I don't think I'd enjoy them much now. One time for a party, I filled clear plastic cups with blue Jell-O, vodka, swedish fish and gummy worms. My mistake was making them the night before. The vodka ruined the consistency of the fish and worms. It was gross, but looked neat.

Livingston women are renown for our henious Jell-O dishes. One time my aunt served a Jell-O "salad." I thought it was dessert, but I was mistaken and as she pointed out any asshole could tell it was a dinner salad because it was served on a bed of lettuce, mixed with cottage cheese and the center was filled with mayonaise, not cool whip.

Later that evening I joined the mile-high club -- well, if the mile-high club included people who barfed on planes.

I have a Christmas ornament commerating that red-eye flight. Yes, I found a Jell-O salad Christmas ornament.

I think my 20 minutes of waiting are up -- mmmm, Jell-O. Mine is filled with love. Yours?

Recently Acquired By My Grubby Hands

Books:

Moon Garden by Anthony McCann (Wave Books, 2006)
The End of Rude Handles by Jen Tynes (Red Morning Press, 2006)
Scheduled, Unscheduled Appointments (Spire Press, 2003)
Look Slimmer Instantly! by Jerome Sala (Soft Skull Press, 2005)
Jane {a murder} by Maggie Nelson (Soft Skull Press, 2005)
Edging by Michelle Noteboom (Cracked Slab Books, 2006)
Leadbelly by Tyehimba Jess (Verse Press, 2005)
Euclid Shudders by Mark Tardi (Litmus Press, 2003)

Chapbooks:

Lingo by William Allegrezza (Subontic Press, 2002)
Female Comic Book Superheroes by Jeannine Hall Gailey (Pudding House Press, 2005)

Journals:

The Carolina Quarterly Emerging Voices Poetry Project (Winter 2005, Volume 57, No. 3)
The Bat City Review (Number 1, Spring/Summer 2005)
the tiny (Issue 2)

More Topless Pics (i.e. Shafer Gone Wild)

Kaplan's photos from last night.

Maureen Thorson's Head

You asked for it, you got it.

Shafer Hall Gives Impromptu Reading of Douche Poem to Soy Bean Lobbyists

For real, yo, like I could make that up


Typical Shafer Hall Groupie

More Burlesque photos -- yeah, it's worth taking a look.

TONIGHT

Gina Myers, Dustin Williamson, Shafer Hall and Henry Israeli

at 8 p.m.

in the Dark Room at Bar Rouge (1315 16th Street NW Washington, DC)

This Week at No Tell

Maryrose Larkin box steps the moon this week at No Tell Motel.

Back

Home from Pittsburgh. I ate more sugar and junk food this weekend than I normally eat in a month. I don't think I had a single vegetable -- oh wait, no I did, there was a corn casserole and potato chips and refried beans and and there were tomatoes in the pizza sauce, oh wait, tomatoes are technically fruit -- cookies, cake, cupcakes, doughnuts, rolos candies. No wonder I feel hung over.

The Carolina Quarterly Emerging Voices Poetry Project

Now Available ($6 -- Free to UNC Students). Poetry by:

Christopher Salerno, Susanne Kort, Aaron McCullough, Eugenio Montejo, Reb Livingston, Bryan Penberthy, Lee Slonimsky, Amy Carroll, Randall Williams, Daniel Borzutsky, Jan Bailey, Tracey Knapp, Rick Wirick, Ann Humphreys, Dore Kiesselbach, Rebecca Givens, F. Daniel Rzicznek, Sharmila Voorakkara, Amber Flora Thomas, Ed Faclo and A. Loudermilk

We're heading to Pittsburgh in a bit. Before I go, a few notes:

For those of you attending Burlesque on Monday -- wear something pretty. A photographer from The Washingtonian will be there taking pictures for an upcoming article on the DC literary scene.

OK, that's just one thing. Sorry. It's been a busy week. Catch up, catch up, catch up.

Great, a poet and a young Republican. Where does one find a Nixon 2008 tee in size 24 months?

Well, lightening hasn't struck and I said "penis" and I just got an e-mail from Carly and she said "pussy" -- not sure about the other readers, but I have feeling we're all still square with God. Most of us, anyway.

I forgot to bring my camera.

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Just received an e-mail from an aunt who recently had a session with an intuitive reader -- this reader informed her that the boy named "Gideon" was going be a writer and write "beautiful dark poetry." My aunt seemed to think this news would please me. Well, shit, why didn't she just tell me he was going to grow up and become a weather bunny. That's the worst news I've heard all week -- look, I want a successful doctor or an engineer, somebody who can take care of this poet after she blows her social security checks on the nickel slots. I spent the entire morning talking with Gideon, explaining how he's not living in my basement when he's 30 years old and I'm not supporting any of his weirdo "art" projects and how I specifically chose an engineer to breed with so there would not be another poet in the family.

I'll give you some dark subject matter to write about.

Going through my manuscript-in-progress and crying "I haven't a thing to read!" Ah, must have a reading in the next 24 hours. In Austin I gave Jill E. a stack of poems and told her to pick 3. I think she did a good job. But I'm going to do it myself this time and show up to that church wearing my big-girl pants. Or big-girl skirt. I haven't decided what I'm wearing yet either.

Hmm, so if a guy who doesn't blog walks into a room full of bloggers and says "What's up my bloggers?" and tries to give the "recognized blogger hand-gesture" (I believe in my youth this was called "fronting") -- will he be punched in the face? And if so, will others cheer it?

Even though half the time I can't conjure enough upper-body strength to open the spaghetti sauce jar, certain individuals consider me threatening. For the longest time I didn't realize that, I thought they thought it was all about being despicable and for the life of me I couldn't see how I was so awful. At least now that I know I'm threatening, I can put my efforts toward figuring out what exactly is threatened and once I do, scorch that motherfucker to the ground.

For that what is threatened by me is my enemy.

Huh? Hey, don't blame me -- they started it!

In the past 16 hours I've eaten three Krispy Kreme doughnuts and so far, I'm OK with that life choice.

LOCUS is

A community-centered approach to poetry publishing

Each edition of LOCUS is built on a set of cities or regions. Guest Editors in each location are tasked with locating poetry community within their areas to whatever extent or degree they experience it by selecting seven poets whose work they want to highlight. Each poet contributes five pages of poetry to the city. The Guest Editor writes an introduction to his or her selections to comment on the poetry scene where they live.

This Week at No Tell

kari edwards is beyond surface glare this week at No Tell Motel.

Burlesque Poetry Hour Update

More Gratuitous Nudity Coming Up in March

A Very Inappropriate Rooster

This month's "Crucial Rooster" is up.

Pantsing just got a whole lot less cute when one takes a whizz all over the place and we all know what comes next after that.

Open to suggestions for glue or staples safe to use on a young child's skin to prevent pants from being removed.

I haven't had to say "Dude, keep your pants on!" this many times since, well, last week at AWP.

It's One of Those Weeks. . .

. . . where I'm playing catch up on everything and getting further behind. An unsatisfying feeling. Finishing up my "Crucial Rooster" column (missed deadline) and putting together my new manuscript. Some moments I feel like it's really coming together and other moments, feel like I've wasted the last two years of my life. I hate times like this.

On the upside, Gideon's been pantsing himself all week and well, that's kind of amusing. Because he's one years old. If he's still doing this when he's 14 . . .

No Tell Motel Night at Grace Church

How'd we get an invite to read at a church? Not sure, but we did and you should come and listen.

Tuesday, March 21 at 7:30 p.m.

Grace Church Poetry Coffeehouse, 1041 Wisconsin Avenue, NW, Washington, DC

Readers include:

Kim Roberts is the author of a book of poems, The Wishbone Galaxy, and editor of Beltway Poetry Quarterly, an on-line journal and resource bank serving the greater Washington DC region (http://washingtonart.com/beltway.html). She has published poems in the US, Brazil, Canada, Ireland, and France, in journals beginning with every letter of the alphabet. She has been a writer in residence at ten artist colonies.

Remica L. Bingham, a native of Phoenix, Arizona, received her Master of Fine Arts degree in Writing and Literature from Bennington College. She has attended the Callaloo Creative Writing Workshops and is a Cave Canem fellow. She recently completed her first book of poetry entitled Conversion. In addition to other journals, her work has been featured in 5 AM, PMS, Crab Orchard Review, Gulf Coast and is forthcoming in Essence. She is the recipient of the 2005 Hughes, Diop, Knight Poetry Award and was nominated for a 2006 Pushcart Prize. She is the Writing Competency Coordinator at Norfolk State University in Norfolk, Virginia.

Maureen Thorson's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Hat, LIT, and Unpleasant Event Schedule. Her chapbook, Novelty Act, is available from Ugly Duckling Presse.

Christy J. Zink is an assistant professor of writing at The George Washington University. Her work has appeared in such publications as American Literary Review, The Gettysburg Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, and The Washington Post. She has received fellowships from the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities and the Virginia Center for Creative Arts.

Carly Sachs teaches creative writing at George Washington University. Her first book of poems, the steam sequence will be published by the Washington Writers Publishing House in Fall 2006. With Reb Livingston, she curates the Burlesque Poetry Hour at Bar Rouge in Washington, DC.

Reb Livingston is the co-editor of No Tell Motel and the anthology The Bedside Guide to No Tell Motel. Her online chapbook, Pterodactyls Soar Again, is forthcoming from the Whole Coconut Chapbook Series. Her poems have recently appeared or will soon in Best American Poetry 2006, Coconut and MiPOesias.

Issue One

GALATEA RESURRECTS (A Poetry Review)

The folks who so adamantly pooh-pooh the blog are either immensely ignorant of the benefits or are bitter because they didn't first recognize the potential and are unable to admit they were wrong. I mean, whatever, it's not like I realized it until a few years ago when I started seriously reading other poets' blogs -- but at least I wasn't a dick about it. Whenever I hear someone going on about how "ugly" the word "blog" is, I know I don't have to waste anymore time listening to what they're saying.

The Official Photos

of the LIT Reading.

Speaking of the People. . .

. . . I found it interesting to watch people's reactions to the cover of the Bedside Guide at the bookfair. I was prepared for the explaining I'd have to do -- and most seemed either receptive or amused. The few skeptical glares were diffused with my assertion, "I'm a porn peddlar."

Then again, I'm a woman. On Saturday, PF sat at the table for a couple hours and had a different experience. Specfically, one woman was very vocal in her outrage, "What the hell is this?" and "Oh, I bet there are TWO women in the entire book" kind of thing. PF explained what the anthology was, that it was edited by two women and that she could take a look at the back cover and see the many women contributors. According to his account, this woman opened the book, read one poem, flipped to another and then another and then put it down. Guess it wasn't what she expected after all -- and I'm not really sure if it was the cover she had a problem with or that she was attributing the cover to a man. (BTW, the cover designer is also a woman)

The moment turned back when PF invited her to the pajama party. "Oh, I bet you're going to have women prancing around in skimpy negligees and high heels!"

Um, is there any other way to go to bed?

That chick is lucky I wasn't around. I would have given her quite the dressing down. Of course, I have a feeling that if I was around, this incident would not have happened.

First Outdoor Stroller Walk of the Year

Oh, and I'm almost positive I saw Lionel Ritchie walking through Dulles airport last night. Two smiley-faced women were carrying his suitcases.

I'm just as mysterious in person

Reading at the LIT/Redivider/Kitchen Press event Friday night:

From Anne Boyer's perspective:



From Julie Dill's perspective:

This Week at No Tell

John Mercuri Dooley wears his body puppet and loves it this week at No Tell Motel.

But While It's Still Today . . .

The Bedside Guide to No Tell Motel on miPOradio -- March 11.

Featuring: Jill Alexander Essbaum, Laura Cronk, Aaron Anstett, Catherine Daly, Laurel Snyder, Peg Duthie, Clay Matthews, Oliver Luker and Amy King.

HSH

I'll post a list of books traded and picked up at AWP when they get here -- they're in the boxes with the unsold/ungifted Bedside Guides that Jill Alexander Essbaum is shipping back to me. I can't even begin to describe how many times Jill took care of my ass at the conference. So of course I repay her generosity by nearly slamming a truck door on her face. Also, I wasn't prepared for how wonderful and kind people were going to be -- I mean, I wasn't expecting to get sucker-punched or anything like that -- but the kindness was overwhelming. More evidence I spend way too much time online. On the plane ride home all I could think about was how I didn't spend nearly enough time with anyone -- and I was almost always surrounded by people while I was there.

I'm done pimping books at tables -- from here on out I'm going to be all about the people. Tomorrow I'm changing my life.

Heh, heh.

So very good to be home.

Apparently it was extremely difficult to get a cab last night due to the music festival -- so it was a smaller and intimate pajama party but the real disappointment was that nobody used the make-out room out back. So don't expect any slutty gossip from this party -- the debauchery was going on elsewhere. Sorry to those who tried to make it and couldn't and thanks to all those who did come out. I just wish you all would have eaten more of the cheese tray. My co-host Brent who let me have the party at his house is stuck with a pound of it and he's lactose intolerant.

Never again will I get a table at the AWP bookfair -- too much work and not enough sales and honestly the conference didn't do nearly enough to make it successful or even bring in foot traffic. And getting up 6:45 a.m. everyday so I could be there by 8 a.m. -- for the birds. I think I got 8 hours of sleep the entire conference. I can't hack the "working" AWP -- it severely cuts into my footsie time and without that, what's the purpose of life? Last night in the elevator, a woman attending the music festival observed me struggling with two boxes of unsold books and said "rough night?" and I almost cried on her shoulder.

Aside from all of that, I had a blast meeting everyone, attending readings, participating in the LIT/Redivider/Kitchen Press reading, participating in the DIY panel. Next year I'm just going to come out for those kinds of things.

I'm going to have lunch with PF in a little bit and then we're headed to the airport.

Blogging will be light this week -- I have to catch up on all the work I've neglected in preparation for Austin, spend time with Gideon and Chris, as well as catching up some sleep. Right now, I'm one batty broad.

I'd do one of the list of all the people I've met -- but there's so many, well, I would surely slight more than a few.

I'll do a little name dropping: Thanks to Eduardo, Carly, Jill Alexander Essbaum and P.F. Potvin for working the No Tell table. Because of them I haven't peed my pants once since I've been here -- and I'm sure The Canary folks who share the table appreciate it too.

Overheard at last night's LIT/Redivider/Kitchen Press Reading: "Best AWP EVER -- thanks to ________!"

DIY panel this morning (10:30) with Shanna, Jordan, Gary Norris and Felicia Sullivan.

There's going to be a super sexy sale at the No Tell table today. Fierce sales tactics to be used. I do not want to drag these books on a plane. Remember folks, it's the perfect Easter/Passover gift!

Table 741

By the food stand.

Look for the 20 shades of pink.

p.s. Joe Massey is totally cute -- even with the beard that I wasn't expecting to like -- but I do!

And I left my camera at home so Chris can send daily updates

Lying and typing in bed at the Austin Hilton (wireless!). Wow, the city is smaller than I imagined. Well, the little I've seen of it so far.

Checked out my friends (and pajama party co-hosts) new house -- should be a nice place to paint each other's toe nails and braid hair.

The 72 Bedside Guides haven't arrived yet (yikes!) but are scheduled to be delivered tomorrow. Talk about cutting it close. Getting packages shipped to DC is considerably faster. I packed 8 in my suitcase.

Got some last-minute funding from Lulu for the conference. Considerably more than I expected. So come by the table and ASK ME ABOUT LULU.

This Just in My Inbox

Dear Reb,

As Mercury and Jupiter move backwards across the sky (i.e., turn "retrograde") ... you may feel caught in the wake of their reversed motion. Don't be surprised if you find yourself "sitting on the fence," pondering an important issue and not knowing quite what to do.

------------

Oh what to do, what to do.

Should I pack pink and frilly or black and lacey?

It's hard out here for an online poetry magazine editor with 100+ pairs of underwear.

MEET, EAT & GREET POETRY BLOGGERS! - REVISED

From Lorna Dee Cervantes:

READ 'n' EAT, MEET & GREET POETRY BLOGGERS!
ALL POETS - WELCOME HOME!
Wednesday 6 - 7:30 pm
Poets' Pot-Luck Picnic Beneath the Shadow of the Freeway
(esquina del rio y carretera)
Town Lake Park

7:30 - 10pm+
marathon monopoem spin-the-bottle reading
Poets Book Fest
Pecan Tree Restaurant - Blue Bonnet Banquet Room
Holiday Inn Austin Town Lake
20 North Highway 35
Hot & Cold Hors D'oeuvres
bring your own drinks from
THE TAVERN

TOWN LAKE: POETS CENTRAL


Orale! TIME TO GREEZE! Who's up for meeting po'bloggers everywhere? I'm up for hosting a meet & greet marathon monopoem spin-the-bottle reading (A la the good old days of the Annual MANGO Toast 'n' Jam), food, drinks on wednesday evening especially for all my poetry blog buddies - that means you, buddy! Esa! Bring your guitar, all youse local yokels. [yes, yesy, I know, geographic socioeconomic melange: all by intent for deconstructive purpose and strategy y con plenos poderes.]

This Week at No Tell

Ashley VanDoorn is kissed numb by a firefly wearing the devil's face this week at No Tell Motel.

Cosmo Poet

Got my pajama party nightie -- washable silk! -- matching robe! Whew. I was getting worried.

I hadn't had a haircut since December, but was able to walk in and get one this afternoon. Not my usual hair stylist, but I wasn't being picky. This stylist went on a great deal about how much fun my hair was to blow dry. Seems my hair is very flirty (it likes to flip!), but not slutty. Really. So come up to the No Tell table and compliment my hairdo -- I'll give you a free postcard and piece of cinnamon hard candy. There's your ice breaker. But don't harsh my giddiness like she did by then pointing out that I'm desperately in need of color. No candy for the jackass who points that out.

She also noted that she could tell I had a small child at home by observing the ferocity I read two Cosmos while waiting my turn. Apparently I never looked up once and gave her that "Is it my turn yet?" look. I was lost in the world of the magazine.

Can you blame me? One issue had a fold-out map of all his erogenous zones. Now I'm not particularly good reading maps, on the road when Chris asks for navigation assistance I usually just stare at the map until he pulls over and snatches it back -- but this Cosmo map didn't have a bunch of lines and numbers and I'm pretty sure I read it correctly.

Washable silk. Flirty hair. How-to gleamed from a map. Watch out Austin.

Indiscretion Required

Review of The Bedside Guide to No Tell Motel by Francois Luong at MiPOesias

Places To Find Me Next Week

I'll be womaning the No Tell Motel/The Canary booth at the AWP Bookfair for most of the day, everyday.


Friday night I'll be reading at the Kitchen Press • LIT • Redivider Party:
Friday, March 10 at 9:00 PM

With readings by Sarah Bartlett, Adam Clay, Shanna Compton, Emily Gabbert, Matt Henriksen, Reb Livingston, Randall Mann, Sharon McGill, Danielle Pafunda, Zachary Schomburg, Laurel Snyder, Sam Starkweather, Jerome Stuart, Christopher Tonelli, Paul Toutonghi & Joshua Weber

Club DeVille
900 Red River St
Austin, TX 78701


Saturday, March 11 from 10:30-11:45 AM (Austin Hilton, Salon B), I'll be participating on the following panel:

DIY Publishing: Chapbooks, Zines, Webzines, Blogs, Collectives & Etc.

With Jordan Davis, Reb Livingston, James Meetze, Gary Norris, Felicia Sullivan & moderator Shanna Compton


Saturday night after 9 p.m., I'll be playing twister at the No Tell Pajama Party.

My one year ago today

and surprisingly (or perhaps not) I'm just as exhausted (maybe more so). As it turns out, that wasn't my favorite part -- I prefer these days. I prefer cutting a soft chicken taco into bite-sized pieces over pulling out the breast pump. I prefer making plans to attend AWP rather than reading about everybody else's. As it turns out, I'm not martyr material.

Also, Gideon's sense of humor has improved. Days are much more enjoyable -- despite all the home destruction and the recent introduction of tantrums.

Sexy Song Suggestions

I'm putting together the party mix for the pajama party -- if you have a sexy song suggestion/request, let me know here.

New From the Fishhouse

From the Fishouse: an audio archive of emerging poets
New for March/April 2006:

Kyle G. Dargan
Terry L. Kennedy
Reb Livingston
Sabrina Orah Mark
Michael McGriff
John Poch

Bonus Poets:

Matthea Harvey
Sarah Lindsay


Live Fishouse Readings:

Ilya Kaminsky, at Bowdoin College, February 2, 2006

The new DCPoetry site is here.

Items I Now Possess

Vaudeville by Allyssa Wolf (Otis Books/Seismicity Editions)

The Greek Gods as Telephone Wires by Bruce Covey (Front Room)

The Canary 5

Chain 10

Shiny 12