to add

add cleve poem here and musketeer gripweed poem

letter to New Yorker

Anthony Lane's review of "Lincoln" misses the powerful social import of the film. The film is, as David Denby points out in his much better review of the film on your blog, momentous. Tony Kushner has beautifully framed one of the great moments of U.S. history within our own. Seeing this film released simultaneously with Obama's second term feels like kismet. The fact that this movie was written by a gay playwright underscores the parallels between what is happening with gay rights now and what happening with racial equality then. The fact that Obama stood up in support of gay marriage has a potency similar to Lincoln's anti-slavery support. As 50 Cent, perhaps the biggest and baddest of the largely anti-gay hip hop world, said, "If the President is endorsing that, then who am I to go the other way?"

loryl

Hey Loryl. See below in caps.

On Mon, Nov 12, 2012 at 4:04 PM, Loryl Mcbride <lorylmcbride@aol.com> wrote:

Oshima
Loryl Mcbride
Adam DeGraff
12 November, 2012

               During this reading much like the last one, I had a hard time focusing on

each character. Maybe I was bored with the reading, or maybe it just didn't

interest me. However, the one way that I did connect with the reading was

about the darkness.

                 When I was a little girl I was terrified of the dark due to the fact that

someone had broke into my bedroom window three times. Since then I am still

terrified of the dark. A lot like this character I find myself wondering what

every noise is, who is out side my door or window. Are they there to hurt me?

Will they break in too murder me? This is something the effects my every day

life because I have these feelings every single night.

             At the end of the story I felt very disturbed and disgusted of what I was

reading and couldn't wait for it to be over. I don't enjoy reading about rape;

even more so when it's rape about a family member. It made me ask my self

"why is he having us read this" . I feel that the whole story was very random and

all over the place. Not my favorite story at all.

THIS STORY IS AN ACCOUNT OF A PERSON WHO IS FACING HIS OWN FEARS. AS A MALE THE IDEA OF RAPING YOUR SISTER OR MOTHER, EVEN IN YOUR DREAMS, IS ABOUT THE WORST THING YOU CAN POSSIBLY IMAGINE (JUST AS BEING RAPED AS A WOMAN BY YOUR FATHER MIGHT BE FOR A FEMALE CHARACTER.) IN THIS CASE THE STORY IS ABOUT RESPONSIBILITY AND THEREFORE THE CHARACTER LOOKS AT ONE OF THE WORST ATROCITIES IN HISTORY AND IS ABLE TO CONNECT HIS OWN FEARS TO IT.

AT SOME LEVEL LITERATURE IS ABOUT OVERCOMING YOUR FEAR "OF THE DARK", WORKING THROUGH WHAT IT MEANS, AND THEN USING THAT INFORMATION TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR OWN ACTIONS. TO NOT MENTION RAPE EVER IS TO IGNORE IT, WHICH MEANS NEVER UNDERSTANDING IT, WHICH MEANS IT KEEPS HAPPENING. THIS IS SOMETHING THE CHARACTER IN THIS STORY IS CONFRONTING, AND THEREFORE SO IS THE READER. IS THIS DISTURBING? YES, OF COURSE! BEING DISTURBED IS OFTEN A QUALITY OF UNCOVERING TRUTH.  BUT NOT FACING IT WOULD LEAD TO SOMETHING EVEN MORE DISTURBING.  DOES THAT MAKE SENSE?

YOU ACTUALLY HAVE A BEGINNING OF GOOD PAPER HERE, IF YOU TOOK THE FOCUS ON YOUR OWN FEAR OF DARKNESS, RELATED YOURSELF TO THE CHARACTER THROUGH IT AND THEN TIED IT INTO YOUR NATURAL PERSPECTIVE OF HORROR OF RAPE AS IT PLAYS OUT FOR THE CHARACTER  IN THE STORY. THAT COULD BE A POWERFUL TAKE ON THE STORY.

ALSO, TRUST THAT IN LITERATURE, ESPECIALLY, NOTHING IS RANDOM.

A couple of my students asked to analyze one of my poems for class. I gave them a few (coming soon as a SUBPRESS book!)

Response to one of my student's essays:

I have to say I appreciate your astute ability to talk about this narrator as separate from myself, as if the narrator is a character, or maybe even "everyman". You helped me narrow in on what this poem is about in a fresh way and I appreciate that too. There is a kind of turn around in this poem, what you call a "redirection", and the clue of the surfboard is there. Some kind of weird conflation of light and water too?

And maybe a metaphor with poetry. Like the surf is life and the paper is the surf board.

The Steven King Crouch End thing intrigues, but you have to explain. I haven't read it so not sure what you are referencing.

The "S" idea you need to explicate. (maybe the wave itself? S is a wave.)

The "I" idea you get nicely.

The sadness is interesting. You point to the stray cat as a clue and I like that. The word stray does imply "from something".

You mention the poem's loneliness, and though it is there, I think there is something in the "emptiness" that is not lonely, which leads to the wave, to the poem.

Shane the horse

Shane the horse


I went through the desert on a horse with no name
actually he did have a name
his name was Shane

It was a shame
nobody knew Shane's name

Shane! Come back!

He's gone and he thinks nobody knows his name

In the desert no one can hear you complain

I rode through the desert on a horse with a name
I wish I had known the horse's name was Shane
It gives my heart pain to think he had a name all along
to think that under the desert sea was a lovely star
in the sea breeze rippling and schools of fish
jumping and rotating cylinders...

and there was a whole life
under the sea
that we could not see
that we did not know
and now we're killing it off

How low can you go?

Richard Branson wants to know
he's gonna hire himself the know how
to get down to depths no man ever done

Reach, last stars to reach
the earth to breach

I went through the desert on a horse
whose name was Shane

He had a mane
of purple
and grapefruit
and pineapple

he had a tale as long
as the run of this song
and longer
and fatter
and stronger
and sadder

what are you eating
my daughter?

fullness

D Note basement w/ Matthew reading Night 9 from 1001 Nights, watching Rushdie talk about Midnight's Children, dancing hard to G.A.M.B., watching commentary to Quadrophenia, then watching last Louis of season "New Year's Eve" and it is the best TV episode ever. (maybe). Next day Susan Howe's "My Emily Dickinson" and Kailin Yong on the violin at the D Note. Great...

poem by Matthew DeGraff and myself post cabin party

Mountain Love D Style

Elks bugling
To the new moon
Uncontrollable jowling out
On Molly's mushroom
I spilled the spirits (12 year old)
Being high in the upper valley
Escape to organica
Kill it with the now
Before we leave these woods
We have to exchange numbers
In the sea of red cups you will know
Tub Proust candle party