Writing poetry can be hazardous to your health, apparently

This link is provided courtesy of my friend Elvi, wife of bloggist Lawrence (101 Squadron) Nyveen. Thanks Elvi.

http://education.guardian.co.uk/egweekly/story/0,,2266116,00.html

That's it, I'm quitting. No, I can't. Man, this is worse than smoking. Soon they'll be withdrawal programs, literary Nicorette.

A Dream of Birds takes flight

On some occasions, however, the brevity of the poems make them pithy and entertaining. in "Savoury" Rotchin declares, "I have tasted the bird; savoured both the flavour of its freedom and flesh," and in his inexplicably striking (and thus aptly titled) "Stopped in my Tracks" he proclaims, "What's truly suprising? Someone walking down the street with a bird on his shoulder." While such moments aren't entirely representative, they are refreshing and keep this light collection afloat.

We had a good Ottawa launch of our poetry book "A Dream of Birds" at the Tree Reading Series organized by Dean Steadman with the help of able host/poet Don Officer and webmaster/poet Rod Pederson. It was preceded by some vegetarian Indian fare at a somewhat cramped but nonetheless recommended restaurant next door (sorry, the name escapes me, next to the stately Royal Oak pub where the reading took place.) The audience was warm and receptive, most of them poets, as there was an open mic to begin the program. I was exhausted having worked all day before making the two hour trek to Ottawa from Montreal. Then I forsook the offer of Seymour's legendary couch to drive back after the reading. I say 'legendary couch' because he claims that some of the luminaries who'd slept on it in the past include Irving Layton and Adele Wiseman. "Maybe some of their greatness will rub off in your sleep." In the end I passed on the couch, getting home at 1 a.m. My psiatica doesn't know from Layton or Wiseman.

This morning there is the first bonafide press review of the book. That quote upstairs is about as praising as it gets. Here's the full review from the McGill Tribune online. Stay tuned for some news on the Montreal launch at the Jewish Public Library on Sunday, April 6th.

Still tinkering with this one (what else is new?) but here goes...

THE 1970s
for Sivan

My eldest daughter,
having forsaken the shovel, pail
and sandbox some years ago,
has entered the age when one skin is shed
but the other’s yet to grow in.
In our household
everything old is new again,
the 1970s have come back
in the guise of Dark Side of the Moon,
Crime of the Century
and a rock-opera by the Who;
It was the decade
when the over-sized self-consciousness
that had been growing bigger
and speeding toward me
like a Road-Runner cartoon boulder
finally caught up, rolled me flat
and overtook me.
I’d tried slipping out of sight
in puffs of dope-smoke
but that didn’t work,
and neither did telling myself
“You’re a genius” or
“This time the plan’s foolproof.”
In no time I discovered
that the laws of physics
aren’t what they’re cracked up to be,
that earthquakes can start as little pills
(if you miss the bottle’s fine print)
and there’s precious little to depend on
except falling in love
with the chase itself
and that once set in motion
things long forgotten will roll up from behind
and when you least expect it
(you will always ignore the approaching rumble)
squash you in your tracks,
leave you wheezing, your body
like a worn-out accordion,
and still, by some miracle,
you will be able to walk away.

The world's last Jew does himself in, live!

The lights go down; the movie starts. Almost before you register his face on the screen, you see his hands looming in the foreground, holding a stack of neatly aligned bullets. Their long, gleaming cylinders seem outsize, given how close they are to the camera, which provides the fixed, warped perspective you associate with a monitoring device. A logo on the right-hand side of the image confirms your impression—“MBT AutoBioCam,” it reads—while the canned musical cue of a cable network trumpets the importance of the moment: This is news, and we’re going live!

I've never been a big fan of David Cronenberg's films but he's a thoughtful, engaging interview and this piece about a (very) short film sounds interesting.

Usher in the spring with an Ottawa poetry reading

For anyone who might be within a hundred miles of the nation's capital tomorrow (Tuesday, Match 25th) I will be reading in Ottawa with my co-author Seymour Mayne at the Tree Reading Series from our book of word sonnets "A Dream of Birds" - seems a nice way to coax in the spring. You might want to take a look at this interview about the book given by Seymour while you're at it. The reading which takes place at the Royal Oak Pub starts at 8:00 p.m. with an open mic. Admission is absolutely FREE, so tell your friends and family!

Happy Purim!

Yesterday, my wife brought home from the library this absolutely mind-blowing graphic novel version of the Megillat Esther by J.T. Waldman. This book is a genuine work of art and literature; multi-layered, multi-referenced, original, beautifully composed, visually stunning and intellectually rich, like a Judeo-Persian feast for the eyes, mind and heart.

Dip in to the Megillat Esther website to get a taste.

The perks (pricks) of higher office

"You wouldn't be doing any of this if one of the objectives was not to increase the amount of pussy that was available to you. That is what you do," Hitch says. "You don't do it to be, ah, the most approval-rated governor of New York, for fuck's sake."

I suddenly find myself in the awkward position of agreeing with Christopher Hitchens. It's hard (pun intended) not to this time. I once heard a poet (I think it was Leonard Cohen but don't quote me on this, it might have been Irving Layton) who, when asked what inspired his poetry, answered getting laid (I may be paraphrasing here.)

http://www.villagevoice.com/news/0812,hitchens-on-spitzer-s-lust,381263,2.html