Showing posts with label Virginia or the mud-flap girl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Virginia or the mud-flap girl. Show all posts

Monday, April 22, 2013

Reese Witherspoon



Reese Witherspoon

the damp fixings of the internet
the stars and the stripes of
my own private mumblecock
the fake relevance of the avant-garde
the crap manliness of the same
its keen imperialism, Reese Witherspoon,
the false attachments of the scene

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

The Next Big Thing

[I was tagged by Susana Gardner. Bc the world’s spinning so quickly now 5 years ago is vintage.]

THE NEXT BIG THING

What is the working title of the book?

It’s called Virginia or the mud-flap girl but at times was also Shell keep., Ancient Celebrity Tune-rot, and fleece pimsy.



Where did the idea come from for the book?

My interest in the true histories of our continent (North America); mythology; feminism or the female line; and of course, celebrity and royalty. A long-abiding interest in Pocahontas and in Elizabeth I, real women whose lives were so powerful as to be on the level of myth.


What genre does your book fall under?

Poetry and history.


What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?

I love this question, but they are already playing themselves throughout and it’s already a film – the names of celebs are the titles of a lot of the poems in the first section – Uma Thurman & so on. Here though, is a fun star map…this is from a play I wrote ten years ago, La Gnossienne, with Dana Teen Lomax as Aphra Behn; Yedda Morrison as Djuna Barnes; Carol Treadwell as Jean Rhys; and Sarah Anne Cox (pregnant with Phaedra Cox-Farr) as Gertrude Stein (note her little dog too). Bc it's all one project in the end.

One of the best things Sarah Anne Cox ever said was that watching Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris was like playing with Barbies. It was enjoyable but the guy has absolutely no sense of Gertrude Stein or Djuna Barnes, sorry. I’m waiting for Hollywood to step up to the plate with biopics showcasing the glamour (in the archaic as well as contemporary senses of the word) of actual women writers and adaptations of the works of women. Where is the James Franco version of Audre Lorde’s life? Bc really the male Beats can go home by now with their gap ad selves. Where are the vast screen adaptations of Eliza Haywood’s works? Etc. It’s a disservice to the women who made that place, for example the great genius Anita Loos. It’s a loss for us all, and it is no accident, it’s the suppression of the voices of so many. It’s no fun either!


What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

We are all aristocrats, per Lord Buckley.


How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

5 years, plus all the time I had to think and learn before that.


Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Gertrude Stein, Mae West, Toni Morrison, Paula Gunn Allen, Barack Obama. My fellow Americans ☺. Vine Deloria Jr.’s quote: “We should be making a determined effort to move forward in the creation of a continental culture that understands itself as a totality and a novelty whose only concern is developing forms of existence that provide everyone involved with a sense of integrity and identity.”


What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

It’s gossipy!


Who is publishing your book?

Dusie Books put it out last year. It’s my second book with Dusie.


Tag! Philip Jenks, Charles Alexander, Rodney Koeneke, Kathryn L. Pringle, Michelle Detorie, K. Lorraine Graham.

Friday, December 9, 2011

the fairly cwen



Hi this is the text I read for Delirious Hem today....these poems will all fit together as Virginia or the mud-flap girl, to be published by Dusie next year. Some of them are already out in a new chapbook from Least Weasel. Others from the project are here and there. Xo, Eliz.



the fairly cwen


the olden seas sweet edges
far from the stormy lullabies
that set the stagy notion
in the park inside the park
tracing loves earthy footpath
the tender animalia
the cozy repeating bits
in hearth and glen
where mother wasn’t
lonely stylized forests
did the first cwens
in such water castle
our songs of comfort & praise


*

Kirstie Alley

the aging sugar scratch
tucked as bad as if
such brittle donations
in the clearinghouse as if
tubby the wicked
on other days while thinking thin
while carrying the wish-bones
and the fretted land-haul
tucked as bad as if
offerings
a painful
cutting down
in some time else
such uncozy tolerance
the other guy’s polite surprise
at the irregular hands of the pharm
the rubber-cheeked debate
all the mary parts
so drab & eerie
in that distant shag
carpet basin of angles
all the mall-bearing marigolds and
all the tiny hollows of ourselves
untouched by disney
raised in sorrow gently
raised in joy
those other days
behind us


*


Reese Witherspoon

the damp fixings of the internet
the stars and the stripes of
my own private mumblecock
the fake relevance of the avant-garde
the crap manliness of the same
its keen imperialism, Reese Witherspoon,
the false attachments of the scene


*

Michelle Williams

all the handsome signifiers
in the village heap

so much falls to the mother
they are not gods

the heavy busy lace
prevention of empires


*


toward the doggy wood

in the ritual pit
toward the doggy wood
shell keep.


*

the platinum herd already texting
these new world


*


Mispretend this fatal document,
my senator, my namesake, my urn

She draws charms, glitter, the
tooth-strewn scar

roots from the world
a shabby cult
in browny nightcap

in the costume-hell
shrew melody
grand name-bearing
quality
apt repose


*

Thursday, September 25, 2008

down at the truth-mall
crown ruin queening

Saturday, November 10, 2007

[bodyfrock’d in the howling viz]

bodyfrock'd in the howling viz

landed suppositions in the claptrap have

buried in futuristic hubbub

plans and sub-plots, solace, measure
into 
the pavlovian sunrise