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“Does anything we say ever leave us?”, Rodney Hall writes about the body as the space/house for the voice. [via Leigh Warren]
Laurie MacFayden has this Spatherdab poetry blog that knocked me back on my heels. Perhaps part of that is medium; I get used to speed over refinement in the internet press for current frequent words. But then, in any medium devonport is elegant and sylvia hotel is a poem to rest in. An extra bit of coolness was staying there a year ago. And, yes, I’m sure the table linens were linen.
Poetry New Zealand has as its sample poems one by my cousin Barbara Raeburn. Cool. Sample of Body Talk My clothes strew the floor like wildflowers/in summer – pink next to mauve next to/ orange. […]I meet my friend and her husband, listen/while he corrects her, she corrects him./We know what we are losing, know/ that memory’s a poor substitute/for time held motionless, that pretence/cannot call a sleeping heart.
Have I mentioned snapfish photobooks? It’s a minibook 24 color pages 2″x3″ for $6. It seems ideally priced to set out a self-published book of haibun for the Haiku Canada Conference in May in Montreal. That’s rushing towards now soon.
Book Ninja mentioned an observed New Yorker predilection for poems about writing poems. Slate’s Chris Wilson did a count by a word search of meta-words, poetry, poem, writing, reading, words, lines, or verse. Wilson

“granted clemency in cases where words or lines were clearly used in a non-poetry-writing context. By this measure, 84 poems—27 percent of the whole lot—mentioned poetry, including 32 that used the P word explicitly and 15 that mentioned writing in the title. […]
I bend to the open notebook,” […] (Here we would normally stop reading, according the game’s rules.)”

Robert Peake has a column in readwritepoem called What you should learn from rejection letters where he suggests, if you don’t already, to make a spreadsheet to track results in aggregate as well as to recognize nutritious feedback, distinguish between “what to take to heart, and what to take on the chin”.
Ooh, a new review of Soft Where. Ashly Dyck says McCann’s “poetry reflects a playfulness toward language that can stem only from an extreme sense of familiarity with the tools of his craft.”
John Brandi’s haiku at Basho Road. Nice to see another tidbit of his measured humourous view of the world.
Gary Barwin asks himself where his handwriting came from Now I rarely see any to be influenced by. And I wonder why I was impermeable to handwriting of my folks or friends. I remember resisting the round loopy handwriting of one friend as girly and the spidery of another as being not open-faced. My mom’s I’ve sampled on pages, intending for a decade to make a font from it. It’s utterly regular and steady. My dad’s? I wonder if remnants remain or if she chucked his copious notebooks as “of no use”. (Our senses of “useful” are inverse of each others.)
I remember choosing letter forms according to a handwriting analysis book, carefully noting at age 8 or 9 never to color in my dots or loops or risk being fingered as a serial killer, or force myself by handwriting to become one. Also tried working with pencil bit in mouth to force cheer.
Apt 9 Press will launch a Stuart Ross chapbook tonight. Cool.

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