order here!
“It’s time to gather rest under duress.” Music and its family of allied arts reigns high in the world Logan Ryan Smith has carved for his Singers. Dance and ritual act as counterforces to the martial law the poem has been written under, in this time of Iraq incursion that touches every aspect of our lives. Smith sends out these poems like bulletins to his heroes, his confreres, his girlfriends, his dead; in the serial form pioneered by Jack Spicer, John Ashbery, Robin Blaser, and Larry Kearney, the tropes rumble like card tricks—Spicer’s forests, diamonds, Giants and knights advance and retreat across a musical chessboard. If there was no one else writing poetry in all of the Bay Area, we would still be “covered”; with Logan Ryan Smith at bat we’ll see angels in the outfield. —Kevin Killian
3 comments:
yes, LADIES, it is TRUE! if you thought i was HOT before, just wait till you see me now that i have a BOOK. i'm f'n scorchin'. and i'm INSTANTLY famous.
LADIES, if you would like to wine and dine a FAMOUS HUMANITARIAN and vastly popular poet, then look no further.
i have a book. OBVIOUSLY, i am the PERFECT man.
huzzah.
come to Pink tonight. i'll tell the girls you have a book. these are college grads. for real.
JOHN, i am trying to convince the ladies of my IMMENSE fame because i'm broke and would like to be taken out and treated like a FAMOUS-PUBLISHED-POET-WITH-A-BOOK should be treated.
alas, i'll have to pass on PINK. can't afford it. getting a new tatt later today.
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