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Glass Houses by Molly Wilmes

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Click here to read the chapbook

Glass Houses

by

Molly Wilmes

Glass Houses

Molly Wilmes, is a BFA Sculpture candidate at the Art Institute of Chicago. 

This Chapbook is about grieving the loss of a friend, I work from my honesty, using a particular narrative voice to touch on something universal about grief.

Take It All Away

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Take It All Away

by

Rebecca Corshia

There you give me freedom but I don’t need it anymore,
Fake. You are illusionary,
Transcendence into a block of coal,
Cloaks black as a kettle burnt from the evening
Mocking strive for design, not neglect.
Intellect calls for us a great deal of patience.

Away to take the train there lays a great bank of gravel
Trying to crawl away the bird lies dead and is buried
By its lover.
The strength of the people is amiss and there is not one to care
Under-covering the blank dilemmas is a horrible task.
Great is the one who calls for us to be better
Then we shrink and hover and stretch
Until there is a great young tent concealing
Our insecurities and strengths.
The flounder is jealous.

I call upon the ancient powers to create within me a pure heart.
A sin upon a sin, how can one be alive, free, and naked?
Naked, we crawl as a great whale laughs in our faces,
Stress, coward, real, raw, sex, creation is nothing.
There is a law that condemns those who feel
The call and play dead.

Bio:
My name is Becky Corshia. I am entering my junior year at Gordon College Wenham, MA studying Psychology. I was part of a research study on power posing that won the Undergraduate Research Symposium in the Social Sciences Category. My interests lie within the fields of clinical psychology and counseling. I involve myself in researching human behavior, teaching roles, educational reform, cross-cultural situations, and promoting awareness about mental health issues. I write stream-of-conscious poetry and prose to process my own thoughts and emotions.

Approaches to Another Narrative

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APPROACHES TO LONG POEMS OF THIS NARRATIVE

by Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia

and

Anna Elena Eyre

  • Although temporal this narrative is non-chronological, non-hierarchical and non-linear and more akin to that of a spiral with layered complexity as well as the backward, forward and present trajectories of moment(s).
  • The idea of the image of an occurrence is the motive for this narrative and the motivation for readers to enter into the story as well as to have the story enter into them.
  • This narrative emphasizes transition/attention/relation not action/conflict/heroism.
  • This narrative is no longer storytelling, it is story-talking.
  • This narrative is highly interpretative on behalf of the reader because of authorial choices.
  • In this narrative the reader in some ways becomes the writer because the text requires participation to be determined.  It is because of participation that we can locate and re-create a poetic tradition that requires personal enactment.
  • This narrative engages delimited and ultra-discursive identity, naming, setting, plot and experiences.
  • This narrative wishes to escape the literary narrative (resolution, coda, evaluation and exposition) to bring about a linguistic narrative (intuitive temporal sequencing, displacement, coordinate clauses, orientation complication, and an abstracted exposition).
  • This narrative is primarily textual and utilizes translation of oral poetic strategies including: patterns of recurrences; morphology; deixis; pitch; juxtaposition; minimal vocabulary; variation; improvisation; rhyming that can be but does not necessarily have to be sounded but rather based in associative resonances; as well as rhyming that is unpredictable and spontaneous.
  • This narrative is a mirror or window that has been shattered but each shard is a piece of and offers another jagged perspective of the whole that is necessarily indefinite.
  • This narrative explores othering, exile, hybridism and errantry.
  • Voice is key to this narrative.

Ghazal For Ginsberg

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 Ghazal For Ginsberg

by

E. S. Cormac

Tell us this story, goddess daughter of Zeus, beginning at whatever point you will.

I have studied your immense enumerations grey beard

I carefully crafted lines in response to shopping list strophes jazz beard

Thrown away to mind’s inner recesses and 182GB of RAM that’s all I have left either way

It is our pleasure to report neon fruit hydrogen jukeboxes the least of worries, father beard

It started off beautiful lines echoing your madness devoured minds of generation

Poseidon’s blinded children air out intimacies despite song of emperor’s fiddle, vigilant beard

It lead away to Troy’s shores and roster of ship’s crews using exacting turn-o-phrase

They snap fingers in cafe bravo to poetic truths of high school journal keepers now, beat beard

Lines stopped weary of flowing thoughts returned to foreign fiord

Struggle self society is it lost in transliteration mouthings, pariah beard

I am tired of them. I am tired of their flying circus. I don’t want to be a clown. I want to look outside

IWW, CCCP, LBGT, your Spartan Phalluses battled Barbara Billinglsy boulevards kabala beard

I will no longer write of the I, the me,  the we, the ours.

It is our pleasure to report, sertraline, fluoxetine, replace cerebellum scars now, committed beard

I will become Clipper of Coupons for Packets of Tea. I, soldier of emperors, swear, grand beard.

I am having a slow epiphany beatnik beard.

The beatnik poets as a whole, and Allen Ginsburg in particular, struggled against the norms of society. Through verse and prose they spoke of taboos, railed against mainstream America, and confessed dark desires in a style that also rebelled against the formal literature of the time. Whether through translation or imitation this style is what is most remembered and copied today. Hidden in the human caricature that has become the Beat Writer’s are the real life struggles of men against their society. A society they felt alienated from somehow.

I, Saladin, To Nobody in Particular

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A Response to Charles Olson

by E.S. Cormac

I, Saladin, To Nobody in Particular

Wandering idle down Styx lanes

Periwinkle, Crimson, safflower

hues assault windshield unrestrain’

battlement’s arrows shower.

Shall I sit upon the shore fishing?

With the sea stretching out from my feet.

      Or speak of undone business?

Of breath

          of ears

                of syllable, syllabus, syllabic

Oh Glowster Man

   (that is how the ears hear it)

My spatial nature geometry is lost now

buried beneath billboard

advertising gleaming teeth

and all manner of elixir

                and what watches

                           and what wears

         I want to fit

I want to shine brighter than the fifty stars that glint atop Metropolis

        I want that piece

        I want that peace

I held that gun at them

     for the confusers for the Brooks Brothers cloistered minions

I held that gun

           watching as we lay siege at Ma’arra.

                          How they feasted

Across winter windshield

giants stand gleaming teeth on black ribbon roadsides

 Fear Not Citizen!

                get the yellow out 

                             drink this

                                         tune in tonight at nine)

GOOOO! SPORTSTEAM! GOOOO! COMMERCE! BUY SELL SELL BUY BUY

Go Icharus

fly  where you can never reach

             fly and I will follow

My ship’s mast melts with wings

        to cause quarrel over the loss of golden armor.

There are riches enough to be satisfied in Troy

          In Troy

where Dear Fathers, Fearless Leaders, Benevolent Uncles

Bearded Revolutionaries smile down on us all

           watching

              waiting

                  for the chance to purge

O Commerce O Commerce

I repent

My teeth dream of the day they can gleam

sublime ego sentence strands removed from shores

blown to glass

      situated in teethly tower rows

          erect Testaments to our fathers named

Sears, Comcast, Chrysler, Key and Bank of America I and II

O Commerce O Commerce

I repent I am Redeemed for five cents

Do not discard me in your Gulag Archipelago

         I am not so poor, you will make no great profit

    Do not discard me in a home of wayward Roman D.J.s

         In twelve plus twelve I would never produce a cantos

Oh Glowster Man

    Do you hear me?

       Was this percussive?

          Was it PROJECTIVE?

I want to wander through brilliant stacks of cans

I want to act after taken thought

I want to fight no more forever

Oh Glowster Man

    Do you hear me?

Your RAT-A-TAT-TAT DA-DING

has been replaced by yet another glowing blue screen that can paint the windows of Suburbia

The keys still clack

but even as we speak they are being replaced…

                                                               By what says you?

         by shiny glass and aluminumy tablets says I

                                                                Like His word says you?

    better says I

       they gleam of billboard staring toothuses

 

Charles Olson’s poetry and essay, “Projective/ Verse” are the antithesis of the New Critic School of writing. Although Olson is scholarly and fills his stanzas with learned quotes and references, he departs in every other way from the New Critics. Embracing all the features of modern printing Olson breaks his verse up according to how it should be spoken or into ‘breaths as he calls them. His open verse or Composition by Field is formed free of iambic meter. Instead Olson prefers to concentrate on the kinetic nature of the poem, Olson also carefully points out that all metaphor, objects, or anything else that would interrupt this kinetic flow must be omitted.

Open Call for Writing

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Critics, theorists, linguists, translators, poets, teachers and students,  Altpoetics is calling for all those bits of poetic musings which tend to have no place on poetry blogs or in the vast amount of poetry journals/zines.

Altpoetics is looking for manifestos, mission statements, process pieces and any theory on poetics/poetry, language and translation.   This is the place to voice all those odd and innovative ideas about writing.  This site can also be a place to dig into older theories (as new tends to sprout from old) but really, there’s no need to continue to sing the praises of decades old manifestos.  Let this be the place to voice your own ideas. The future is yours to create.

Altpoetics isvery interested in writing as a response to other writing/writers.  Letters to the past and poems re-visioned/re-imaged are also of great interest.

Altpoetics is also looking for slipstream work -writing which shows innovation or a new/different approach.   Altpoetics is especially desirous of work which pushes the limits of the lyrical narrative.

Please send 2000 words or less in a .doc attachment to altpoetics@gmail.com.  (Previously published material is welcome.)  Also, please title the piece and send a short bio within the attachment.  And, a cover letter is appreciated.