C.S. Carrier

Deborah Bernhardt

James Copeland

read their poetry to you

Saturday, November 21st, 6 p.m.

at Ada Books (717 Westminster St., Providence)

About them:

C. S. Carrier's the author of the poetry collection After Dayton, published in 2008 by Four Way Books. He's also the author of Lyric, published by horse less press, and The 16s, published by Katalanche Press. His poems have appeared in many literary journals, including Bird Dog and Word For/Word. He has degrees from Western Carolina University and the University of Massachusetts Amherst. He lives and adjuncts in Hartford, CT. He has a Chihuahua named Merwin and a blog named O Say Can You Chihuahua.

Deborah Bernhardt's first collection, Echolalia, was published by Four Way Books in 2006.  During her 2008-2009 Second Year Poetry Fellowship at the Fine Arts Work Center, Provincetown, her project was her new manuscript. Her recent poetry can be found in Issue 16 of Free Verse and forthcoming in the January/February issue of Tikkun.

James Copeland is from New York, was educated in Connecticut and California, and currently works at Ugly Duckling Presse in Brooklyn.  He is the author of the chapbook "A Constructing Egg", and as a founding member of the Paff-Butrin Orus collective he has performed at Dixon Place and Galapagos Art Space.

Like all our readings this one is boosted by RISCA. Thanks, RISCA! 

Polestar #15

Sunday, November 1, 2009
5 pm


C.S. Carrier
Roddy Lumsden
Emmett Tracy


CAKESHOP
152 Ludlow
(between Stanton & Rivington)


Trains to:
Delancey-Essex Sts (F, J, M, Z)
2nd Ave-Houston St (F, V)
Grand St (B, D)


About the poets:


C. S. Carrier is the author of the poetry collection, After Dayton (Four Way Books, 2008) and the chapbooks, Lyric (horse less press 2007) and The 16s (Katalanche Press 2007). He was born in Dayton, Ohio and grew up in North Carolina. He attended Western Carolina University and the MFA Program for Poets and Writers at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. His poems have appeared in many journals including American Letters & Commentary, Bird Dog, Coconut, Pleiades, and Word For/Word. He has a longhair Chihuahua named Merwin. He lives and teaches in Hartford, CT.


Roddy Lumsden has published five books of poetry, most recently Mischief Night - New & Selected Poems (Bloodaxe, 2004) and Third Wish Wasted (Bloodaxe, 2009). Originally from Scotland, he lives in London where he is a Core Tutor for the Poetry School. He has done editing work on several prize-winning poetry collections and for the up-and-coming small press tall-lighthouse, for whom he edits the Pilot series of chapbooks by Britain and Ireland's best younger poets. Identity Parade, his major anthology of recent UK / Irish poetry is due in 2010. Lumsden is organiser and host of the monthly reading series BroadCast in London, which specialises in themed multi-poet events. In 2009, Poetry magazine awarded him the Bess Hokin Prize. An Eric Gregory Award winner and former Vice Chair of the Poetry Society of Great Britain, he has been shortlisted for the TS Eliot Prize and was awarded an International Fellowship at the Banff Center in Ontario in 2001. He works as a puzzle and quiz writer and popular reference compiler / editor.


Emmett Tracy is a Dublin-based poet, educated in North Carolina, Massachusetts and New York City. His poems have appeared in Island (Tanzania), Seam (Cambridge) and various anthologies. He has received fellowships from the UCross Foundation (Wyoming) and Williams College (Massachusetts). His recent readings include National Poetry Day Ireland, Abyat Marrakech (sponsored by the Goethe Society), and the Heartland Reading series which he co-organized with poet Tom Haushalter. He currently splits time between the Atlas Mountains (Morocco), Cullowhee (North Carolina), and Dublin.

The current economic reality is unfriendly, even more so than usual. What I mean is that it's always been hard as an artist, in good times and bad, to make art and make a living. All I want is to make poems.

Based on the current financial environment and a recent conversation with Dawn, I've decided to follow my athlete brothers and sisters into the world of corporate sponsorship and endorsements.

I'm willing to consider any sponsorship/endorsement deal. If corporations do their part to fund me and my art, I'll do my part to endorse their products.

I have a blog and a Facebook page and will soon have a website on which I can drive the products of my sponsors. I can endorse products at readings I give, and I'm not above product placement in poems. 

While I'd consider anything, I'd prefer to work with corporations already involved in my life. For example, I write with Sharpie pens and sometimes use Ticonderoga pencils; a deal involving these companies would make a lot of sense.

I use Moleskin notebooks. I use Apple computers. I use paper but don't have a particular brand at this point. I'm open to offers, particularly those from companies that manufacture recycled, cottonfiber, and hempbased papers.

As I also wear clothes, I could see having a deal with clothing manufacturers. Ben Sherman, ASICS, Levi's, Diesel, Banana Republic, Armani, Gucci, Fruit of the Loom. Also, food and drink: Silk, Odwalla, Smart Water, Guinness, Whole Foods.

Word for/Word #15 is now up.

Includes work by Matthew Klane, Brooklyn Copeland, Larry Sawyer, Mg Roberts, and others. Also, a poem of mine and an interview of me by Elizabyth Hiscox.

I looked at the MLA Job List today. I was physically sickened by it, the lack of prospects for next year. Too bad I'm not a fiction writer or nonfiction writer. No, I'm a poet with an MFA. 

If I couldn't get a job, even an interview in a good year, a year with a lot of openings, I'm surely fucked this year. There are some openings for poets. There are a few that excite me. But I'm not optimistic at all.

University of Oregon, George Mason University, and the University of Houston--these are exciting. I'd love the Oregon job. Then there's the position at Brooklyn College--holy crap. I'd most definitely be down for that. And I'd most definitely be an excellent fit for that program. But I won't even get an interview.

In any event, looking at the Job List today made me consider even more going back to school for a PhD in Creative Writing. I've been thinking about it for a couple years, even researching programs and soliciting/downloading materials.

I spent a lot of time today thinking and writing about why I would want to pursue a Phd in Creative Writing and whether or not I had it in me to succeed in a Phd program. I have good reasons for pursuing a PhD in CW. Many of the reasons resemble reasons I had for pursuing an MFA in CW. Environment, community, focus, stimulation, time to write, teacher training.

The reasons for doubting myself aren't good, but they're powerful nonetheless. Being a PhD student doesn't seem to me as though it would provide the kind of living situation I've been wanting since leaving grad school. I'm tired of getting by. I'd like to move towards buying a house and starting a family.

That reason doesn't hold much water. I recognize that. But the other reason for self doubt is--I've never been the best student. I've always opted to spend my time on poems, on trying to have experiences. I've never been good with deadlines, writing papers, theory. Do I have it in me to dedicate myself the way I feel I would need to? Do I possess or can I come to possess the academic rigor necessary to succeed?

I think I do, given the right program, the right environment. I can do anything I decide to do. I'm a fucking Capricorn. I've got fucking horns and fins.

My list of PhD programs looks like this: University of Illinois Chicago, University of Denver, University of Houston, Florida State University, University of Cincinnati, University of Nebraska Lincoln, University of Southern California, SUNY Albany, SUNY Buffalo, University of Georgia, Western Michigan University, and Illinois State University.

I'll be the featured reader for the Inescapable Rhythms Reading Series, 14 October 2009. It'll be at 7pm at Real Art Ways in Hartford.

There will be an openmic after my show. 

I'll read from After Dayton. I'll also read some newer poems.

I'll sell books. And rock panties senseless. I may even be persuaded to lay hands and kiss the foreheads of infants.

I went to the Inescapable Rhythms reading last night. It was at the Alchemy Juice Bar. In fact, it was in the building next to Alchemy, some center for social consciousness, which is affiliated with Alchemy. It was IR's last night at Alchemy, as next month IR will move to Real Art Ways. In case you don't know, IR is held the second Wednesday of every month. As far as I can tell, it's the only regularly scheduled reading series in Hartford and worth attending. I've been twice, last night and the reading in July, which was headlined by Ravi Shankar. In case you can't tell, the readings consist of a headliner, who reads for about half an hour, and an openmic session, in which participates read for about five to seven minutes. I've been twice now and have been surprised by the quality of work, particularly by the openmic readers. There have only been two readers, one each time, that I wasn't interested in. That's a pretty good ratio. Last night was a fiction night. The headliner was Dan Pope, whose work I was not aware of. Dan was followed by an openmic session that consisted of maybe six people, including moi. Dan read two short stories, one in which some friends go to a drive-in to watch Deep Throat and one in which a man and a woman and a dog are driving from Providence to Denver to start a new life. I liked both pieces, particularly the second one. The dog in the story is an angry dog afflicted with hip dysplasia who at the end begins talking to Al, the main character, who had recently consumed a pill of questionable color. Of the openmic readers, I liked the short story that Kristin, the cohost, read: beautifully textured and poignant story about two women in Mumbai. I liked Adam Golaski's pieces. There was a woman there, Alexis, who read two epistolary pieces to old buildings in her postindustrial hometown, which I found out later was Holyoke, MA. They were interesting, particularly the idea and salutations of each piece. I'd tried to generate a short story, since it was fiction night, but couldn't get anything that wasn't shit. So I read a short story, "Blind Girls" by Jayne Anne Phillips, and a poem of mine with a "narrative thread," as I put it. The poem is a new one that will be published soon by Word For/Word, alongside an interview of me by Elizabyth Hiscox. I was surprised by the positive response it got. Several people commented on it afterward; many called it sexy. I can dig that. The next reading is September 9, and I won't be able to make it because of my night class. Drag.

I drafted a poem today. It had meerschaum in it. It had Michael Jackson in it. It had the Luftwaffe in it, barreling down on Guernica. It began "God's head in graphite." I like that. In fact, I like the first four lines of the poem. I like the poem less as it progresses. It needs a lot of refining. It has all these disparate elements, and I wonder how they will end up making a whole. In fact, many of my poems, particularly the recent ones (and by recent I mean the last couple years), are made of disparate elements, and I've spent a lot of time wondering about how these poems hold together. I wonder if this "problem" would be "solved" by a witty use of a title. I wonder if this "problem" would be "solved" by an intelligent use of a regular verseform. I wonder if this "problem" needs a "solution." 

I pledge allegiance to my flag and the republic for which it stands: one nation indivisible with liberty and justice for all.

I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands: one nation indivisible with liberty and justice for all.

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States and to the republic for which it stands: one nation indivisible with liberty and justice for all.

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands: one nation indivisible with liberty and justice for all.

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for which it stands: one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Southern Excursion 1.0 (6/11/09-6/29/09)

Number of days it took: 19. Number of states involved: 12. Number of miles: 3210. Number of dogs that went with: 2. Number of thunderstorms passed through: 3. Number of laser shows seen at Stone Mountain: 1. Number of dogs that went with: 2. Number of poems written: 0. Worked on: 1. Number of grandparents I met: 2. Number of grandparents that impressed me: 2. Number of Dawn's siblings I met: 5. My siblings that she met: 1. Number of moms involved: 2. Dads: 1. Number of plants we came back with: 8. Birdnests: 1. Number of nights slept on the airmattress: 2. Number of nights we couldn't sleep on it because it wouldn't inflate because I plugged it in wrong: 1. Number of different beds slept on: 6. Number of nights spent in Hagerstown, MD: 1. Number of times we passed triplets of crosses on hills beside the Interstate: 9. Number of said triplets in VA and NC: 7. Number of giant paintcans passed: 1. Number of times we stopped just for sweet tea: 1. Number of times we saw Foamhenge: 1. Natural Bridge: 0. Fewest dollars it would've taken to see Natural Bridge, which would've included a tour of the wax museum, the Native American village, and a creation story involving Natural Bridge and Bible verses: 18. Number of times we ate at the Pink Cadillac, a fiftiesinspired diner near Natural Bridge: 1. Number of Cadillacs, pink, in the grass in front of the Pink Cadillac: 1. Number of unexpected wakes we went to: 1. Unexpected funerals: 1. Number of shirts I bought at a thriftstore in Roswell, GA: 1. Number I wanted to buy: 3. Number of summits climbed along the Blue Ridge Parkway: 3. Number of them climbed with dogs: 3. Number of ticks removed from my body: 1. From Merwin's: 2. Number of times I heard the phrase "I'm not taking responsibility for this decision": 4. Number of times that hearing it was too many: 5. Number of times Merwin and Bailey fought: 1. Number of times I left my keys on the roof of the car: 1. Number of times I found my keys still on the roof of the car: 1. Number of miles my keys traveled on the roof of the car, and through a torrential thunderstorm, no less : 357. Number of times Bailey crawled in the front passenger seat because of a thunderstorm: 2. Number of margaritas I drank: 4. Number of times we did laundry: 3. Number of pairs of socks left in Roswell: 1. Number of games played: 5. Number that were cardgames: 3. That were Yahtzee: 1. That were Scrabble:1. Number of points Dawn scored on one Scrabble turn: 80. Number of movies we saw at the theatre in Louisville, KY: 1. In Dawn's mom's livingroom: 2. Number of times that Dawn went swimming: 3. Me: 1. Number of times I floated on my back for more than 3 seconds: 2. Number of blocks I had to carry Merwin one afternoon in Louisville when it was wicked hot and he'd decided enough was enough: 4. Number of fastfood restaurants we ate at: 3. Number of bushels of peaches bought at a farmstand in north Georgia: 1. Number of days to consume said bushel: 4. Number of peach cobblers Dawn and I made: 1. Number of compliments received on said cobbler, especially from Grandma Gloria: priceless. Number of times I felt like a failure. 4.52. Number of arguments: 0. Number of times we aggravated each other: 47.7. Number of times we had to turn around: 2. Number of times Bailey vomited in the car: 1. Times Merwin vomited in the car: 0. Number of times we camped in the wilderness: 0. Number of pairs of shoes we took: 6. Number of pairs I took: 2. Number I actually wore: 1. Number of times we went to the Gap: 2. Number of caves or caverns visited: 0. Number of art galleries: 2. Number of times I felt a spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: too many to count.