sunfish 6-4

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/sunfish-6-4 1/40

Contents

Stan Rogal Ballad of the Hot Blood BluesRunning Dogs

The OutsiderAliasHead Above Water (Barely)

34

678

mIEKAL aND from o’er 10

bill bissett fleetdid yu wake 2 th sounds inside yu

1820

Ed Baker from ARS POETIC HER 21

derek beaulieu That’s not writing January 28, 1986Untitledfor Helenfor Kristen 2for Kristen 3for Kevin

30323334343435

Sarah Crewe Squid Lord SonnetAlice Through Obsidian

3637

Notes on contributors 39

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


S u n

fi s h

a m a g a z i n e o f e x p l o r a t o r y p o e t i c s

Editor

Nigel Wood

Contact

[email protected]

Website

sunfishpoetry.wordpress.com/

Copyright

The copyright of all work published in Sunfish remains with theindividual authors.

Submissions

Sunfish welcomes submissions from both published andunpublished authors. While the main focus of the magazine ispoetry, Sunfish is also interested in essays, journals, interviews

and hybrid forms.

Subscriptions

Sunfish is published 3 times a year, in March, July andNovember.

£12 a year (3 issues, inc. p&p)

Single issues cost £4 (+ £1 p&p)

Sunfish is also available free as a pdf to anyone that wants it –just get in touch at the email address above to request it – orgo to sunfishpoetry.wordpress.com/ to download current andback issues.

Cover

‘Dead flower #1’ by Joey Collins, from a series of photo experi-

ments inspired by calligraphy.

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


3

Stan Rogal

Ballad of the Hot Blood Blues

after Lucinda Williams

“Now he drives the bottle deep into the night.”

Difficult near impossible to have it both ways, love. Whether longed for virgin whore or drunken angelPrepares the bed linens for tears.Rose, say, or Bird, flush with southern comfortEnded strung out on a wire.Miles down the line blown three sheets to the reedy wind.Trane enters the verse merely as a black ghost among white tracks

Love supreme (or some such) being an other lostRomantic notion destined for wreckage in that ill-fated tunnel.Love itself aches to be unbuttoned & (in the throes) is a total differentKettle. All is bliss. No pot to point an accusatoryFinger where alcohol oils the machinery’s sweet side.

Convulsed, confused with love drives it to our galHarder (maybe) not.

Just this side of heroine herself (nonetheless) still kicks up a stormHot & blue amid the heartbreak.Still peels beer labels with a cracked nail.Still gets her panties in a damp knot.Still gets her nipples in a twist.

Who recalls headier days slipt gradual as a tongue between the legsOr belly licked by the crawl of a Gibson, anyways, remainsBent to the bent lyric Bleeding fingers & broken guitar stringsCanaries: What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger isA lie.

Croons: It cripples; makes walking wounded of us all.As bloodied hearts spike to sleeves in that same awkward fashion& (I mean)

road to hell paved, etcetera, with shredded tires & busted glassHow often can the word mention, love, before it dims?Drunken angel drives itNever.

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


4

Running Dogs

after Raymond Carver

“Music. Music! Everyone grew more famous.”

Aroused by noise pitched outside the ken of mere mortalsTheyDiscover themselves sudden

off the chain. Prick ears, bare teeth, put on theHowlRoam Palo Alto to San Fran. Let down hair (what remains)Drop out. Tune in. Turn onTheir little things grow monstrousIn their wake a trailed spoor of oysters & beer

prints the sandy North Beach toward City Lights. Tide highSurf barks at heel. It utter bays. They prowl theHot spots with a thirst

Whiskey A Go-Go & the beautiful people. WomenIn cages, men behind bars as if the most naturalDevelopmentThey pop cherries into Manhattans & chuffDoors of perception crack to the naked scratch & sniffEach dog a runaway. Each dog jail bait. Each dog a booze houndSet to paw the waitress, dry hump the hostess, piss

in the first convenient fireplace. They raze flowerbeds& perform their small function among the tulipsThey quire on all fours & chorus a racketAh-rooo!They lift a leg, mark territory, learn to lick their own balls, make

With the perfect wolf whistle:“Hey, Blondie!”

Ghoulish apparition girdled alongside such other glamouredPusses in a crowd

Woof! Woof!

(Terrored creatures twitch yellow-eyed from upper treebranches. The hired help have it figured. They hide)

Eaches smell eaches asshole & get high on the odor Where once upon a time their rhyme meant car fare (maybe)Now a brief yelp demands big bones. Esquire, Playboy, GQThey lay their haunches in pure gravy & lap it upThey tongue their whiskers

Life is sweet

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


5

& when the tooth grows long?& when the tide ebbs?& when the cherry bombs?& when the music’s over?& when the last dog is hung?

What?

Fade away. RadiateFade away. Radiate

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


6

The Outsider

after Merle Haggard

“I turned twenty-one in prison

doin’ life without parole.”

Strange. Stranger. Not Camus, though parallelArrested action. In any case, a bust with convention

Which endsa head on the block.

Nothing the French invented. Workin’ man blues, & so on. On the prowl.Nose for news, & so on. Also on the prowl.All so loosely translated, begins:

In the beginning was the word Defines:“… actual linguistic behaviour or performance of individualsin contrast to the linguistic system of a community…”

Outlaw existentialIsmMomma barely dead & buriedSparks a reefer, drinks a café au lait, goes for a swimFondles the butt’ry thighs of a moist young gal in the back row of a darkened movie theatre

Fails to unriddleThe comedy of a crucifix hung like a dagger in the flick’ry light& what was it someone said? Reading a translationIs like fucking a bride through a horse blanket?Nay, too rude a remark for Pablo who rarely (if ever) kissedDown between the stems on paper or any otherwise publicPrison.Then?Heaven knows momma tried, momma tried.

Now left to the blear and roar of ocean. Knows (as well)The world is inarticulate, friend, & a recurrent car wreck. Who learned to drink bourbon neat, tap ashes in the beer for strengthCan only reconfigureIf a single bullet does the trick

What boots this desire to plug further, except,No desire?Funereal meats coldly furnish forth the execution.Man in black sing: Shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die

Time being out of joint axes it.Crucifix hung like a dagger in the flick’ry light.

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


7

Alias

after Jack Spicer

“Do anything

But be a free fucking agent”

Or a postman.Rilke’s hot wet dream & why not? Nothing

but ocean out beyond us & beyond that, furtherunspunked ocean.

Given charge over the dead letter box & its eachesSlack-jawed mu-zak. Rimbaud or Kerouac, say,

buggered up in Africa for price of a stamp. All thatmurky water

Crossing.Surrealism being a cat of many collars sinks beneath the surf.For all its melted watches & such.For all its mustachioed Mona Lisas & such.For all its flying lips & flaming giraffes & such.Ends as an elevator blown straight to the gallows. Meanwhile

walls riddle with ghostly Polaroids labeled AKA alongsidea string of dubious achievements:

TheftRape

MurderQuackeryIntroduction of the criminal element that recognizes

the fucking horror of being a writer in America. Whethercock in the mouth or tampering correspondence

does not cut it does not pass GO, does not collect the necessary

two hundred bucks. Young Werther, also AKA, hardly bears resemblance

Hung as he is by the sentence.A strange bird on a stranger wireSpookedImpossible for any kind

Wander.

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


8

Head Above Water (Barely)

after Raymond Carver

“So much water so close to home.”

What greater confluencethat createsnot so much the undertowas the sheer dead weightlife being (they say) toolong for poetry, too shortfor prose, suffers it:the mixed blessing of children(necessarily)

the piss-ass dog as wellthat chews the crotchesout of the family clothes &refuses to remain lost foreverthe model wife unafraid tobare a little tit now-&-againor hike a skirt for sake of astoried argument, the longdistant girlfriend whose creamythighs pine clamorous as the

Yellowstoneswelled (as ever)to fuck the socks offO Paradise, O EurekaO hungered bite of the big applethat proves less than other worldlythe Karmic backwash of stiffinghired help at the Howard Johnson’sthe bankrupt mortgage

the job that promises three squaresa day but starves the soulthe beat Nash Ramblerwith its rear wheels stuck spinningdeeper into the river’s bedthe tipped kayak, the string ofempty booze cans & bottlesthe butt ends of cigarettesthe general all ‘round poor whiteattitude amid the swirl

the entire kit & kaboodle an anchortangled in fishing line, strung out

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


9

& knotted around kicked anklesthat bleed from the yankmudsharks nosing his ballsrapids circling his neckstill alive (just) still breathing (barely)

the one who often mistookdiamonds for hearts & wouldsudden drop tools, grab a bottledrive 1200 drunken milesCupertino to Missoulafor a shot of real or imaginedstrange piece of tailno longer the Romantic notionriver rising, body sinking even asthe shadowy shape of some

prehistoric raptor long roostedin the lungs is roused by the muddyroil of tobacco smoke & gin(go figure)the aw shucks philosophic of itmumbling: “Hey, gal!”to the slipt ground that renderssituationlessnessa mean fact

madly paddling the churn abovewhile below, the eternal dragnets little else save the invisiblehuman all too humanstings & terrors of egregiousmisfortune

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


10

mIEKAL aND

from o’er

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


11

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


12

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


13

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


14

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


15

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


16

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


17

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


18

bill bissett

fleet

we can evn notlooking beleev inth sunrise th periloustouch we make in thfog sew will eye see yu ther th logsmooving in2 th seawher th moons lay

out th reckless liteswithin th onturningsands all th shapes are th huge bell shiningovr th roaring wavesyu see th moons thruyr revolving eyes gold th tides carrree wch feetures

change each wave yu nme bend our knowings sew th jewels shine asour own undrstandings is b ar uv all timeyr fingrs make th beatis th aura yu fly

in2 yr next mirage a nite without aneepunkshuaysyn areleef as th marks weralredee painful th snow happend isfilling up th valleez

with yr site sumwunyelling at me 4 no

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


19

reeson sigh what timear yu arriving is th star uv th oceansshining breth that

yu take in th air n thmoistyur food all th storeez wecan beleev strong2gethr n loves sewtemporaree we lern2 love th fleeting yes we ar what we can

make bcumming liteinside n thru hollows out th sea ovr th mountainsholding on in th shakee cessna thru th floating ash fields2gethr in2 th sun yr jewlssparkling yr life n evree

thing els all sew fleeting breeths in n out n goezyu n me heer get bizee fixth roof b4 th storm cums in fast

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


20

did yu wake 2 th sounds inside yu

did yu think th keeprs th guardians uv

th vowells th phoenishans saw us

cumming from afar n 4 us th joy

now weul have vowells

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


21

Ed Baker

from ARS POETIC HER

4

EVERY OTHER YESTERDAY

He returns w firewoodto findthe note that She had left

on the floor just where They had fuckedand lingeredon the stove the scent offresh-brewed coffee only

even his loose change goneHer husband still goneHer white dress gone

Daughter & Son gone

from there (is here, now) He gazed outand what is now neededhas also gone

into this Journal this is His“Travel Diary” Thirty-six stationsalong the way He can not recall

the image of a single One nor therecurrent line that pissed Her off

Yet She left a note and every -otheryesterday that SHE remembered toidentify what of to write this additional bookwhile mirror is unfocused and echos an Eros

in His eyes Her reflection !

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


22

Garden WeedsAlso

NeedAttention

Sun Young Song

is She through this entire debauchee taken wasby Her hand His hand through and definition of

“eremite”

;care is never taken when preparations are skipped

;take is a must-that is to be be when She is ready

;’full moon by ANY name is still a silent Rock

its everywhere that is not to be separate from the light

AHHHHHHHH !

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


23

everydaynoodles

in Herporcelainwhitebowl

She poured Him coffeeHe put on another log

“Fires up”

tenth of april and He is yet to think thatshe is coming back to linger

the moist warm droplettes

seed-syllablesto make poem go

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


24

6

[first notebook takes and gives … from 1968 just as it was/ it is]

In His own hand He wrote:

on my desk and words to use allness subverts meaning that I amhere now and your become this

;the last time that I spoke to youyou told me that you would kill yourselfbut, what to do with your two children (?)“I’m doing the best that I can”

through good eye wrong ear hard onhearing what it wants to hearing what waswant to provoke your getting money for sex

“You needn’t beg for want of giving,” I replied

as if to tell and do as what gets us fromthere to here and from here to a fartherthere bend and away deep-down into

seen-through dress back-lit chance of

charm is all this derangement draws and writesdownyour every word as nothing less or hidden fromthe Dear Reader thinking push is tongue intomouth into cut between (Her) legs twisted intowords

this summer’s night and the full moon shining

on her tawny tiny tiddies & her hard nipplesthrough the opened door certain things come andgo requires all attention and a chance taken towards

“are you still angry at me or with me in this bed you are besides”

“it is always in the poem that in you the clearing is”

“the emptiness that makes you angry”

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


25

7

onlywords

clearingmy

throat

here and thereandthen as now

(as you can see)

birdononelegstanding

black-pondfull moon

behind

you hairfalling

farbeyondsteaming

all of youcut is throughthis

dichotomy

old branchtilting heads

my way

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


26

fingers, hands, lipshair, twist is bodybefore me

reaching

last word

onesyllable

out ofletterstakesdeep

breath

seeds

“to change just put your hair the way it used to be”

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


27

8

INTO THIS NIGHT KOREA JUMPS

I can see into your room in the back-light’s summer dress pours shadowthat little is changed or hidden the shades drawn as they were they aredowning the hours taken in by the dark away in the corner you up-anddownthe street just there horns blow a cab and a garbage truck collidethe litter everywhere a rush of jewels that sparkle in your eyes’ lidsspiked shut and opened legs ride Pony’s prance then gallop is ridden

full moon through the air into daylight police siren comes then therevolving lights just so he says: “Hands up”

never mind half closed eyes or opened mouth speak: “what shall I wearto the party ? Something that clings ?”No. The see through pink reveals the woman the girl is now mountedwhips with long black hair hanging downbrushes into perfect fit is Korea’s jump“I don’t remember writing that or saying that I probably would,” shesaid again : “but, I probably mostly did.”To which I replied : “Probably is mostly life will you ? “...so, spin around and into Del Sasser watch the sound j u m p y “1,000

SHAPES OF A FEMALE “

through Her opened wind ow

here & there the view resides in it s own landscape is con textual

just-what-is is what it feels like yearafteryearafterthese Soldiers of Fortune

the first to have raped her before

I had had her before the first time and entirelyobserved the rites of morning where everything becomes ….. is dreamedof & honored in

poems aredistant mountainsdistant events became as herlips/mouth/breasts/hips/thighs

to go into things revered come up withbreathsful of your scent ?

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


28

Things from my cellar from form from memory of All be-cum in theirturn as needed doing a into poetryreduced to it s simplest …. but reduced no further down than that …. thesimplest and Romantic to boot

maybe you can take a nice photo of your self and send it to me ? I willdo a water-color and “shoot” itrightbacktoyou check out today okay put cpl of blue dabs into back-light’s body fullbreasts sent to me this stuff the other

day ; day’s into

raw even that side-wise glance seen through window makes a point thatI am on my way (to you)couple of times now found all of this just as you see it take me only

wearejust-as-it-comesfree-wheeling

hair now it about like it is in photo black -ponding and the notes inbooks (also) intrudes the swing down just beyond your hipsyour Mound

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


29

[direct from notebook dated 1972 / 2010] :

SOMETHING IN HER EYE

instantaneous bursts a single BANG preciseness’ She tippedwardgoes thrusted and through

in all directions instantly this exclamation

Turtle Dove coos into tonight here now stares into black whatHer life has been she is at me with a vengeance a convergence

bare light bulb lights her tawny body

wet from her bath

“coo-coo” “coo-coo”

in her garden Dolphin swims into Bay of Saint Paul

Out of Pefcos a young girl is a pretty girl is a pretty girl is justanother pretty girl wanting to trade

– Pretty Girl follow me home take me down with the look in through your eyes your mouth and over Buttons follow into &– take me

[a Dove is in Her Garden cooing distant stars black holes lips nippleseyes become …. at ...our …. other] ….

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


30

derek beaulieu

That’s not writing

“That’s not writing, that’s typewriting.”

—Truman Capote on Jack Kerouac

“That’s not writing, that’s plumbing.”

—Samuel Beckett on William S. Burroughs

That’s not writing, that’s typing.That’s not writing, that’s someone else typing.That’s not writing, that’s googling.That’s not writing, that’s pasting.

That’s not writing, that’s blogging.That’s not writing, that’s wasted, unproductive, tweaking time.That’s not writing, that’s stupid.That’s not writing, that’s a coloring book.That’s not writing, that’s coming up with ideas.That’s not writing, that’s waiting.That’s not writing, that’s a mad scribble.That’s not writing, that’s printing and lettering.That’s not writing, that’s tape-recording

That’s not writing, that’s word-processing.That’s not writing, that’s following the herd.That’s not writing, that’s copying and pasting.That’s not writing, that’s directing.That’s not writing, that’s using high-“polluting” words to confuse readers.That’s not writing, that’s aggregating, and there are already plenty of aggregators out there.That’s not writing, that’s printing.That’s not writing, that’s art.That’s not writing, that’s Tourettes.That’s not writing, that’s posing.

That’s not writing, that’s button-mashing, and anyone can do that.That’s not writing, that’s vandalism.That’s not writing, that’s acting.That’s not writing, that’s blabbing.That’s not writing, that’s hiking.That’s not writing, that’s just a knife he’s using to eat pie with.That’s not writing, that’s bullying.That’s not writing, that’s dentistry.That’s not writing, that’s just endless blathering.That’s not writing, that’s yelling.That’s not writing, that’s butchery!That’s not writing, that’s a fortune cookie!

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


31

That’s not writing, that’s emoting.That’s not writing, that’s just dressing it up after.That’s not writing, that’s just playing around.That’s not writing, that’s daydreaming.

That’s not writing, that’s showing off.That’s not writing, that’s keyboarding.That’s not writing, that’s calligraphy.That’s not writing, that’s mindless pasting.That’s not writing, that’s an action flick.That’s not writing, that’s a puddle.That’s not writing, that’s a tragedy.That’s not writing, that’s assembly line mass production.That’s not writing, that’s transcribing.That’s not writing, that’s computer-generated text.

That’s not typing, that’s data entry.

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


32

January 28, 1986.

There’s George. Where does she come up George? Yeah but where does it come up? I thinkyou need to be over there. There it goes I see it in-between the trees. There it is coming rightover top the trees. Uh huh it be right on top of those trees. I saw it. There it goes. That’s

brighter than usual. Yeah. It is. Oh yeah. Right over those trees. I saw it when it went throughthat hole. I don’t remember it being that bright, that big. Me neither. What was that part?it must be part of one of them boosters. Oh look, there’s two. It’s going off into two. Thattrouble or not? They’re not having trouble are they? That’s trouble some kind George. That’strouble of some kind, innit it or not? There it goes again. I think I’ll go in and listen. Theygot troubles. No that’s trouble of some kind George. That’s trouble of some kind. That doesn’tlook right. Yeah, I haven’t either. It’s not as bad as it was. I don’t know, it sure didn’t look right.It what? Exploded? What? Said it exploded? Boy I knew it didn’t look right. You could tell.There’s some trouble all right. That’s sorta a historical moment we got here on tape I guess.Hope we got it on tape, lets see what happens.

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


33

Untitled

OK, turn the clown off. This is who was in the White House. This is the, uh, this, this is whatI’m giving you an example of what the Obamas have done to America ah culturally and socially.They bring a tenth-rate clown like this in who boasts about that he teaches his children how to,

uh, his students, so to speak, at the once ex University of Pennsylvania. It’s become a cesspool,uh, what’s happened there. And talks about uncreative writing and how to plagiarise, you hear?Now, when you have a, uh, uh, plagiarist in the White House you would think having a plagiaristpretending to be a poet in the White House in a poetry event … what is this, like, Abbie Hoff-man 2? I mean, this is what I’m talking about here, this is not poetry; this is the debasement ofour culture. It’s part of the Marxist class warfare. This is what he does and this is what he doesand this is how he does it. You say “what are you going on about?” All right, bring it on, I’m show-ing you who he had there. It wasn’t just the rapper, he has this putz there talking about teachingchildren, uh, you can’t write anything creative and original, you have to plagiarize everything

you turn in. This is a teacher in a college. This is what’s going passing now for a college teacher.It goes back to Obama inviting a so-called college teacher who teaches children to te- to writeuncreative writing, where you’re not allowed to write anything original you must plagiarize. It’sthe same mentality. It’s the destruction of western civilization. In that sense Obama is acting ina rather s- schizophrenic manner to have a poetry event and invite someone who teaches chil-dren that that they must plagiarize. You follow where I’m coming from here?

Right. Yeah.

Alright, it’s a little too esoteric, I get it.

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


34

for Helen

for Kristen 2

for Kristen 3

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


35

for Kevin

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


36

Sarah Crewe

Squid Lord Sonnet

Spineless but saw toothed

Cast a tentacleLike a spell spiralIn open oceanObsolete. MistakenFor Wat Tyler’s snakeCarve a serpent’s headOn my peacock coatNavigate spatialEgyptian holy

For Horns of AmmanRead countdown clock rockSpread out nine inchesCheck out two years

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


37

Alice Through Obsidian

Catch a snowflake in my eyeStop. Just one way to mark amad watch. Strip skeleton

cross countdown in circuitand into bold oblivion.A Virgo virago shadowingscales contorts obsidianshape to balance on bar.An Alice to a lucid glare.Artist morphs to autist.I’ll carve a blade from blackHaul arrowhead at Hatter

Take scalpel to that hare.Pout in my latent lavamirror - and breathe.

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


38

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


39

Notes on Contributors

mIEKAL aND

mIEKAL aND is Professor Emeritus of the Department of Yet To Be Invented Languages at

the Invisible College of the Republic of Qazingulaza. He is the author of numerous books ofexperimental text & visual poetry available from www.xexoxial.org. His digital poetry & hyper-text works can be found at www.joglars.org. In 2011 his lifelong poem Samsara Congeries will bepublished by BlazeVox [books].

Ed Baker

Born Washington, D.C. April 19, 1941Here Washington, D.C. April 19, 2012 (he hopes)

everything in between .... is adequate

recent publications in Real book form: Stone Girl E-pic, G OO DNIGHT , She Intrudes, DE:SIRE IS , This Is Visual Poetry, Between Two Houses.

http://edbaker.maikosoft.com

derek beaulieu

Author of five books of poetry (most recently the visual poem suite silence), three volumes ofconceptual fiction (most recently the short fiction collection How to Write) and over 150 chap-books, derek beaulieu ’s work is consistently praised as some of the most radical and challeng-ing contemporary Canadian writing. In 2011 beaulieu was named by Broken Pencil magazineas one of Canada’s “Top 50 indie artists of the last 15 years” and in 2007 was the AlbertaMagazine Publishers’ Association’s Volunteer of the Year. He has also been nominated as partof The Calgary Herald / Calgary Public Library 10 Calgary Mavericks (2010), Avenue maga-zine’s Calgary’s Top 40 Under 40 (2009) and the Alberta Magazine Publishers’ AssociationLifetime Achievement Award (2009). beaulieu is the youngest writer in Canada to have hispapers collected in extensio by Simon Fraser University’s Contemporary Literature Collection.

Publisher of the acclaimed small presses housepress (1997–2004) and no press (2005–pres-ent), and former editor of filling Station, dANDelion, endNote, Speechless and The Minute Review,beaulieu has spoken and written on poetics nationally and internationally. He has just beennamed the visual poetry editor at UBUWeb. His first volume of criticism, Seen of the Crime, isforthcoming from Snare Books. beaulieu teaches at the University of Calgary, Alberta Collegeof Art and Mount Royal University.

bill bissett

latest book novel from talonbooks n recnt book time also from talonbooks ecent cd thsis erth thees ar peopul with pete dako from blu loon prod eye love xplooring evreething in

8/12/2019 Sunfish 6-4


writing eye can sound fuseyun colour textyur narrativ non narrativ vizual evreething sewfar 2 go

Sarah Crewe

Sarah Crewe is 30 years old and from the Port of Liverpool. She has work upcoming in Erbacce and has had poems previously published on 3:AM , Ink, Sweat&Tears and in Smoke and LamportCourt . In November she was poet in residence at the Rock Museum day event at The Institute ofLifelong Learning, University of Sheffield. She’ll also be participating in The Shuffle event atthe Poetry Cafe on January 28th 2012.

Stan Rogal

Stan Rogal is the author of 16 books including 10 poetry collections – the latest being a se-lected works, entitled Dance, Monster! – plus novels and short story collections. A fourth novel,

Bloodline, has recently been published by Insomniac Press.

sunfish 6-4

Documents