Showing posts with label Denise Low. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Denise Low. Show all posts

Thursday, April 3, 2025

Denise Low Interviews Maryfrances Wagner, Former Mo. Poet Laureate

Maryfrances Wagner, former Missouri Poet Laureate, continues to share a poetry of inter-generational


dialogue—among her family in books like Dioramas (Mammoth Publications) and The Immigrants’ New Camera. Her new poetry book, Backstories (Spartan Press), relates poignant narratives about a teacher and her students, based on the poet’s experience. These snapshot poems (see an example below) are intense vignettes that wrap character, emotion, and compassion into unforgettable lyrical form. This is a poet at the height of her powers. I conducted an email interview with her March, 2025.

Denise Low: I love the title Backstories—so evocative. What do you intend with the title?

Maryfrances Wagner: I think all teachers encounter students with inappropriate behavior in one way or another—from sassy backtalk, to never having supplies, to saying something inappropriate to another student, to not doing homework and talking about it with distain, to fights and more serious infractions. There are also the ones who sit quietly and never participate or turn work in but seem to stew in some sort of self-destruction. I found over time that all these students always had a backstory, a reason why they acted inappropriately to school rules. I was always quite moved by how some students had to live and survive, and it made me realize a good deal about my own false assumptions. The shock of what I discovered made me want to tell their stories because I don’t think most people realize what many young people experience in daily life. I did change names and details to disguise the real people, but the stories are true.


Denise Low: Please tell me about this new book’s structure. There are four sections, and all poems relate to your career as an English teacher. How did you choose poems and their order?

Maryfrances Wagner: The first section of the book includes early teaching experiences as well as poems not told as monologues. The next section tries to lighten things up a bit with some humor. I’m speaking in generalities here, but many sophomores are still innocent and naïve even if their lives may be awful. They ask unexpected questions or give answers that show how limited their experience is and how lacking their knowledge is, and I realized many of them didn’t understand metaphor, idioms, satire, irony or context. They took things so literally, and often their understanding of a word’s meaning was way off. Still, there was a charm about that innocence, and sometimes their remarks were funny, so I started writing them down. The third section is made up of student monologues. As I mention in the book, when students committed some kind of infraction, I didn’t agree with the school district’s step system— the first time is a warning, the second is a day of in-school suspension, the third three days of in-school suspension, and after that out of school suspension. I didn’t think the solution to a discipline problem, unless it was something like a serious fight, was to take a student out of class, so I asked the principals if I could offer my students detention instead, and they said if I was willing to stay with them for the detention, it was okay with them. I usually stayed after school for a while each day to finalize lessons or plan for the next day, so it was an easy thing for me to do. Sometimes the students came in and simply spent the thirty minutes doing their homework, but many of them started talking to me, and although they didn’t always realize what they were revealing, they were giving me their backstory, an insight into their lives. The Detention Suite captures those stories. I taught creative writing fiction and creative writing poetry as well, and often in those classes, where I created more of a family environment, students told their stories in what they wrote. I worked some of those into monologues as well. I could have easily written fifty more monologues, but I thought I’d given a representational idea of their lives. The final section closes out the years of my teaching, and the final poems are close to when I retired. I also managed to parody some teaching methods forced upon teachers like the Madeline Hunter Model as well as the jargon principals bring to meetings all teachers basically dread attending. So much educational jargon is reduced to letters.

Denise Low: As Missouri state Poet Laureate, you have had many public appearances—and performances of your poems. Have you shifted your writing to be more performative? Or not? Have there been other influences of being Poet Laureate?

Maryfrances Wagner: Those are two big questions. I’d say yes to the first one. Often my public appearances were around people who didn’t read and write poetry, and some were fairly sure they didn’t like it, so I tried to make everything I said and did accessible. I dodged reading some poems that had layered meanings and perhaps more difficult to understand if they didn’t regularly read poetry, like the poem “Chapter By Chapter,” and I stuck with poems I knew they would at least understand if not find their own way into them, the goal of being a poet for me. I want everyone to find their way in, their own story in mine. The monologues work well this way because I can assume the voices of the students or my mother or my aunt, who were often funny. As to the second question, I’d say that being Poet Laureate was one of the best experiences of my life. Not so much that I touched other people’s lives but that they touched mine. I felt zeal so many times when something connected with them or when they told me how a poem meant so much. I taught many workshops during that time, and they reminded me of what I loved most about teaching—that moment when that lightbulb goes off and a student has a realization or when someone realizes he can do what he didn’t think he could. I love those moments as I am sure all teachers do.

Denise Low: I appreciate the story in each poem and also the lyrical intensity. You use both narrative and lyrical techniques. How do you go about composing your poems, and how do you edit them—what characteristics do you emphasize as you finalize a poem?

Maryfrances Wagner: Several people have called me a storyteller in poetry, but I don’t really think of myself as only a storyteller. Yes, I am telling stories in this book as well as others, but I’m still mostly writing a literary poem. I think most of my poems have a narrative thread, but they do blend the lyric and narrative together. One of my professors once commented on that and said I was joining two forms, but I didn’t think that was a bad thing.

What I am writing about governs how I write the poem. In the cases of the monologues, I have always kept journals, and I used to write in them more faithfully. I always had a journal with me at school, and during those detentions, when students started telling their stories, I started writing down what they said. When I composed those poems, it was like channeling them, and I could hear them all over in my head. At other times I think about an idea I want to get across, a point I want to make, and I build imagery and metaphor that do the work to get that point across. That’s the general way I write, but as I am sure all writers have experienced, sometimes starting a poem without knowing where it’s going helps me see the truth of how I feel about something, and thus, it becomes an enlightening experience for me. As for editing, let’s say the rough drafting is the joy part, getting words on paper, those moments of hanging out with the Muse, but then revision becomes the hard part—making those words better. I revise over and over, changing images or metaphors that I think are less apt, and I keep honing and shaping so that those images tell the story and show what I want to say. My professors always hammered “show not tell,” so I learned not to tell anything. Sometimes that may be at the cost of not being as clear if people can’t stack up meaning that way, but it’s what I do. I look at it over and over for days. Sometimes I change a word. Sometimes I cut a stanza. Sometimes I rearrange the poem, change an image, add and cut. A poem can take weeks or months to come to fruition. From there, I often share a poem with someone to see their response. I envy people who sit down and in one day have a finished poem. I’ve never done that. When I started this book, I wasn’t writing any of the poems as monologues, but when I looked back at my journals and saw where I had written down Brandon Langford’s story (not his real name) almost as he told it, I decided that letting the students tell their own stories was going to be more powerful because there was a deeper layer, a deeper story going on, so I went with many of them that way, but I disguised some things and changed some details so no one would know who I was talking about.

Denise Low: You include your own collages in the book, made of word-art, typography, and images. How do you intent them to interact with the poems?

Maryfrances Wagner: I love to collage. The collages in this book are not indicative of the collages I usually create. Making a collage for me is like the opposite of writing a poem. It’s like a meditation. I shut my conscious side down and let the subconscious express itself. It gives, and I put it down. I don’t think about it. The collages in this book are intentional. One group of them depicts the literature we read. The first one depicts Lord of the Flies, a book I sometimes taught in Sophomore English. It’s a book I think is vitally important in showing how a democracy only works as long as people agree to follow the laws set down, but envy, greed, and fear can undo what could have been a well-functioning democratic society. It’s a lesson that never grows old and is even more relevant right now. Another collage does the same thing with Julius Caesar, a play most sophomores read, and it has many of the same messages. A third is around A Separate Peace, a novel I sometimes taught my sophomores, and it’s a rite of passage book. Some of the collages are words: one is a collection of all the slang intensifiers students have used over the years, another is the different kinds of learning techniques teachers are expected to use until a new way comes along. It doesn’t matter if a teacher believes a different method works better. We all have to change whether we philosophically agree or not. The third category of collages shows students interacting with education, hoping for a future, not sure what we are teaching them will pay off.

 Denise Low: Is there anything else you would like to add?

Maryfrances Wagner: It took me a while to put these stories to paper, and then years after that to collect them into a book. I wondered if I had the right to tell the stories. I think what I learned about my students and myself was as important and vital as anything I ever taught them. They made me a better and more compassionate person. Their lives made me care deeply, and I thought others needed to hear their stories. Even though most of us know that not all things are equal and not everyone gets the American Dream, I think more of us know inequity exists philosophically, by what we read, by what others tell us, but removed from being involved with that inequity firsthand. In their daily life they don’t see how others live. I think being in the trenches with the truth of how some things are has a much greater impact, one I wish more of us experienced.

 

Chuck

What are we? Humans? Animals? Savages?

William Golding – Lord of the Flies

 

On the first day of my first class in a tiny room,

Chuck takes a seat so close he taps my desk.

Every day a Polo, dress pants, buttery loafers.

 

When he looks up, he flashes perfect teeth. He

stares, makes me squirm, but does his work. He’s

18. I’m 21. He doesn’t treat me as his teacher

 

ready to discuss Lord of the Flies. Behind his silky

voice and Gucci shoes, I see his mean. He instigates

fights and whacks small boys, particularly Juan—

 

thick horned-rims, buck teeth, chunky—Piggy if he

stepped from the book, and he likes order, logic.

He asks questions, ponders why Jack craves the kill.

 

The day after spring break, Juan asks for a restroom pass.

A minute later, Chuck dips his face close to mine and asks

to call his mother to bring his lab notes for 4th hour.

 

You probably wonder how I fell for that. I let him go.

I heard the story after an ambulance took Juan away.

Chuck slammed the bathroom door into Juan’s face over

 

and over until his glasses fell off his broken nose

and cheekbone. Then he plunged Juan’s head

into the toilet. By the time the gurney arrived, Juan

 

was unconscious. Chuck earned his last credits

on Homebound. Juan’s parents moved to Texas.

A door had opened into a new darkness. Students

 

bumped along as that year loomed shadowy

under the care of counselors. A quiet spring

of staring into space. A time of weighing.

 

Rumors traveled like vapor, like stories of the beast.

We lived in the flicker, the tick. Too many stained

dreams. Too many thoughts about sharpening a stick.

 

Maryfrances Wagner’s latest books are The Immigrants’ New CameraSolving for X, and Backstories. Her book Red Silk won the Thorpe Menn Book Award and an reissue won second place in the Eric Hoffer awards for literary legacy and finalist for poetry. Co-editor of I-70 Review, she also serves as President of The Writers Place and chair of the programming committee. She was Missouri 2020 Individual Artist of the Year and served as the 6th Missouri Poet Laureate 2021-2023. She is the daughter of four Italian immigrant grandparents.


Tuesday, February 11, 2025

DENISE LOW INTERVIEWS DAVE SETER, SONOMA COUNTY POET LAUREATE

 Dave Setter is a rare poet who combines training as a scientist and a poet. As the new Poet Laureate of Sonoma County, a region about as big as Rhode Island, he presents readings and workshops in Santa Rosa, Sebastopol, and we have plans for an event in Healdsburg. His well-received book Don’t Sing to Me of Electric Fences (Cherry Grove Collections, 2021) shows his original voice, shaded by the odic tradition of classical Greek-influenced poets, with narrative threads that remind me of the best West-influenced storytelling. Mammoth Publications is honored to present a chapbook (28 pages) of his new works, Somewhere West of the Mississippi.

DL: What are the main themes in your new book of poetry Somewhere West of the Mississippi (Mammoth Publications, 2025)?

DS: I explore the myth of the American West versus the reality of the American West; the abuse, and resilience, of the natural world; and the hope that the human species may play a part in healing nature while healing our collective soul.

DL: How does this new chapbook differ from your earlier books?

DS: While the ecological focus is similar to that of my full-length collection (Don’t Sing to Me of Electric Fences (Cherry Grove Collections 2021), in this book I offer a more unfiltered view of the mine reclamation projects I led as a government official. There was a definite silencing of science during certain periods of our recent history, which led to fear of retribution for speaking out in public. I have also included a few experimental poems in this collection which explore topics difficult to relate in a purely narrative form. For example, I envision inhabiting a soybean plant killed by pesticide drift, wondering what it would be like to die a slow death.

DL: How does the title represent the book?

DS: This chapbook and my earlier chapbook (Night Duty) are both titled as subtle references to our movie culture. Many of the poems are documentary in nature. Night Duty is composed of film noir-style poems. Somewhere West of the Mississippi is composed of poems intended to create a sweeping vista of human experience in the American West within the context of its ecology. I wish the chapbook had an accompanying soundtrack, which is always a feature of the American Western.

DL: I love that, as soundtracks accompany us in so many contexts, since invention of ear buds! You have a background in science—how does that affect your writing?

DS: The language of my poems is, in many places, scientific. When I use scientific terms I try to place them in a context that makes them understandable to the general reader without “dumbing down” the science. I’m also uniquely positioned to offer a rare view into the inner workings of how environmental cleanups happen, their successes and limitations.

DL: The poems remain lyrical and balance facts well. You have been appointed Poet Laureate of Sonoma County. What do you plan to accomplish with this community honor?

DS: Because I self-identify as a poet of the ecology, or eco-poet, in the second half of my two-year term I intend to craft a series of nature writing workshops. Those workshops will be based on 17th Century Japanese poet Matsuo Bashō's concept of Zōka (the transformative power of nature). But for the first half, I have decided to challenge myself as well as other Sonoma County poets to write documentary poetry. Documentary poetry has no formal, fixed, definition, but generally calls attention to some injustice witnessed or heard of by the poet. One of the keys to writing a good documentary poem is to research facts about the injustice to add dimension to the poem.

DL: I appreciate your focus outside your ego while still using your experience and expertise. Anything else you would like to add?

DS: I want to thank Mammoth Publications for believing in this project. As Sonoma County Poet Laureate, I wanted to work with a small publisher in Sonoma County. Mammoth is that and more, a small publisher located in Healdsburg, California, with a compelling catalogue of impactful literature.

What My Uncle Is Trying to Say

Photos are silent but something’s said

the way his fur hat tilts down

and jacket hangs open even though

bare trees say cold and the windshield

of the Ford LTD publishes an icy scrawl.

Experts can tell the model year by the grille.

The license plate says Minnesota.

Crystals on the plate and on the lakes,

crystals in the air, ready to fall.

With low pressure snow will arrive

on the doorstep. Open the door.

This photograph is nothing.

He will charge inside like a ghost.

DAVE SETER, Sonoma County Poet Laureate 2024-2026,  is a poet, nature writer, reviewer, and essayist. He
authored the poetry collections Don’t Sing to Me of Electric Fences (Cherry Grove Collections, 2021) and Night Duty (Main Street Rag, 2010). Educated as a civil engineer, he writes about social and environmental issues, including the intersections of the built world and natural world. His poems have won the KNOCK Ecolit Prize and received third place in the William Matthews competition. He is the recipient of two Pushcart nominations. His poetry book reviews have appeared in Cider Press Review, Poetry Flash, and Tupelo Quarterly. He is also studying Lithuanian and has translated poems by contemporary Lithuanian poets into English and published them in literary journals. He has been an Affiliate Artist at the Headlands Center for the Arts, and has served on the Board of Directors of Marin Poetry Center. Seter earned his undergraduate degree in civil engineering from Princeton University and his graduate degree in humanities from Dominican University of California.

Friday, December 20, 2024

A Quick Guide to the NBCC Poetry Longlist 2024

 For the first time, National Book Critics Circle is sharing its long lists for their annual awards,

Kenze Allen

including poetry. This year’s stellar works show the range and depth of United States poetry at this time in history. Please share with me these exciting works by reading about them and supporting the individuals and their presses by purchasing copies. I have some personal and quoted notes to share:

 An Authentic Life by Jennifer Chang (Copper Canyon): Poet and scholar Jennifer Chang was born in New Jersey. She earned her MFA and PhD from the University of Virginia and teaches at the University of Texas at Austin. Other books are The History of Anonymity (University of Georgia Press, 2008), and Some Say the Lark (Alice James Books, 2017). Her lines are taut, dramatic, progressions through multiple timelines. Her press writes, "Poems navigate wounds opened by explorations of family and generational trauma, and draw on the author’s experiences as a mother, as the daughter of immigrants, and as a citizen of our deeply divided nation.” 

Cloud Missives by Kenzie Allen (Tin House): An Indigenous Nations Poets fellow of the first year, Kenzie’s debut book combines historical texts and lyric works to create response to her Haudenosaunee descendancy. She creates new forms to hold together the histories, maps, and emotions. Not to be missed. From her press: “Like an anthropologist, Kenzie Allen reveals a life from what endures after tragedies and acts of survival. Across four sections, poems explore pop culture—the stereotypes in Peter PanIndiana Jones, and beyond—fairy tales, myths, protests, and forgotten histories, before arriving at a dazzling series of love poems that deepen our understanding of romantic, platonic, and communal love.”  

Consider the Rooster by Oliver Baez Bendorf (Nightboat): This native Iowan now lives in the Rockies. During Covid, he resided in Michigan, and, according to his press, “a neighbor in Kalamazoo, Michigan threatens to call the police after discovering the author’s pet rooster. The rooster sounds the alarm and our author wakes to revolutionary transformation.” His stand as a queer poet informs the works of change and chance.

A Gaze Hound That Hunteth by the Eye by V. Penelope Pelizzon (University of Pittsburgh): Global travel informs this book of lyrics and the odd-side role of the commentator/poet on journeys outside “normal.”

Instructions for the Lovers by Dawn Lundy Martin (Nightboat): This poet and essayist has established credentials plus is a professor at Bard. Her press describes the book: “Martin creates a poetic field dense with thought, image, and sound as she reflects on her relationship with her mother, experiences of queer polyamory, lesbian sex, and the racist conditions within the dying American university system.”

The Palace of Forty Pillars by Armen Davoudian (Tin House). Another Tin House entry to the list Armen’s work is based on Iranian architecture. From his website: “In Isfahan, Iran, the eponymous palace has only twenty pillars, but reflected in its courtyard pool, they become forty. This is the gamble of the book’s twenty poems: to recreate, in art’s reflection, the image of a lost home.” I had a chance to talk with him about the book last spring, and I immediately thought of Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities—how we create structures in our personal and collective narratives. He is working on a Ph.D. at Stanford, and he is a poet I am following for his vision, for his connection of personal to collective destinies.

Scattered Snows, to the North by Carl Phillips (Farrar, Straus and Giroux): This veteran poet has been a north star for over a generation. He has won the Pulitzer and written 17 books. His works demands respect for their solid and lyrical energy.

Sturge Town by Kwame Dawes (W. W. Norton): Kwame contributes to his communities by editing the African series of poetry for the University of Nebraska Press. This book returns to his native Jamaica, to one of the free towns founded after emancipation in Jamaica. Postcolonial life. Music traditions and visual art poems are threaded among the themes.

Wrong Norma by Anne Carson (New Directions): Anne’s works are always perfectly balanced, inventive, and wise play with the language. About these prose poems the poet writes: “Wrong Norma is a collection of writings about different things, like Joseph Conrad, Guantánamo, Flaubert, snow, poverty, Roget’s Thesaurus, my Dad, Saturday night. The pieces are not linked. That’s why I’ve called them ‘wrong.’”

Yard Show by Janice N. Harrington (BOA): Originally a librarian, Janice Harrington turned to poetry in the 1990s. She writes about the Southern origins of her family and Black Americans in the Midwest. Critic Johnny Payne writes of this book: “As witness of this exaltation of the gaudy, the poet reclaims kitsch as a redemptive force, a vital stream of art, when it is mindfully connected to a set of local traditions, the heritage of a group that had to strive hard to find its native expression using the materials at hand.”


Saturday, November 2, 2024

PRE-ELECTION JITTERS: CALM DOWN WITH A HORATIAN ODE

Art Beck (Dennis Dybeck) has given me permission to reprint his excellent translation of this ode by Horace. This might help us keep perspective as we await the momentous election. Art's latest book of essays A Treacherous Art, about translating poetry, is highly recommended! In this ode, I like how he renders "Carpe Diem" at the end.
*****************************
Horace, Odes Book I, 11

Leuci - please, bright mind - don’t ask -
we’re not supposed to know
how it’s going to end - not me,
not you. Don’t listen to fortunetellers.
Believe me, it’s better
to take whatever comes,
as it comes. Whether there’s more,
godwilling, whether this is our last winter
shattering the Etruscan Sea on those crumbling
rocks across: be wise.
Decant the wine, trim your endless
yearnings to fit the short hours.
While we’re talking, jealous time’s
running out - on us. Grab today. Believe
as little as possible in tomorrow.

translated by Art Beck


Monday, July 3, 2023

Michael Harty Publishes TWENTY STORIES: POEMS about a Tall Texas Building and More!


Michael Harty
is a successful Kansas City area poet with roots in Lubbock, Texas. His new Twenty Stories: Poems centers on the tallest building in Lubbock, twenty-stories high. The pun on stories as heights and as narratives works well in the collection. I also grew up in a town with one tall building, a singular vertical in a flat grasslands town. In Emporia, Kansas, it was the Broadview Tower. In William Stafford’s Kansas, it was the building where the “elevator man” Gideon worked. Because of the large scale, there is a cinematic quality that reminds me of Muriel Rukeyser’s work. The visual point of view shifts around as well as the narration, the social contexts, and the natural environment. The poems are well written, accessible yet complicated by undercurrents, irony, and recurring themes.

Denise Low: First, congratulations on this original, provocative book! What is your background as a poet? I know  you win sonnet contests and publish regularly. What has been your way into this practice?


Mike Harty:
  I always had writerly ambitions, but I gave up my undergraduate English major when I started thinking seriously about how I was going to earn a living. Psychology was a good choice for me, but I did continue to dabble in more creative writing alongside my clinical practice and some writing for professional journals. A turning point came when I wrote a memorial poem for my mother-in-law, a dear person; people were touched by that poem and encouraged me to do more. That encouragement helped me to get past my reluctance to “come out” as a poet, and I started to write more consistently, attend workshops and classes, and submit to journals. (As you know, classes I took with you were an important part of the process.) It’s true that the sonnet form has an appeal for me, and that sonnet competitions are a place where I’ve had some success. I like the challenge of combining expressiveness with concision, which all poetry requires but which in a sonnet needs to be contained within a (more or less) fixed structure. The poems in Twenty Stories, though, are very different from that, with what seems to me a more rambling, narrative quality.

Denise Low: When I read Twenty Stories, I think of William Stafford’s “Serving with Gideon,” the poem where the “elevator man" must drink from a paper cup and where “old boys who ran the town” were generous to their own kind. He miniaturizes the small-town culture with a few images, and you miniaturize the scale of Lubbock, Texas by taking readers to a twenty-story-high view of the town. Was Stafford ever an influence on you? Who are some other influences?

Mike Harty: Stafford is one of the poets I most admire, for what seems to me his marvelously inventive language that still remains grounded in real life. I will insert here a sonnet I wrote about him.

On Reading William Stafford’s Collection by Michael Harty

The cover opens like a neighbor’s door;

you welcome me, and speak to me in tones

both generous and kind. A voice like home,

yet wise, prophetic almost; you abhor

pretension, yet you touch the very core

of human secrets, poem after poem.

You write of small-town parks, of nights alone,

walks by the river; boots your father wore,

farm animals and trees – a vision wide

as prairie, yet returning in the end

to ordinary life, the shifting tides

that hold and toss us all. The words you’ve penned

are like a voice from someone at my side:

“See, this is how things are. Join me, my friend.”

#

It’s hard to identify specific influences beyond just mentioning poets I’ve admired at different times: Frost, W.S. Merwin, Donald Hall and Jane Kenyon, Dylan Thomas, Maurice Manning, plenty of others. I think also growing up in the presence of the King James Bible has had a lasting influence, via the majesty of its language and its connection with the most important questions. And rock-and-roll is in there too, the sense of liberation through sound and rhythm.

Denise Low:  Wonderful poem—you capture his tone and settings so well, and your simple and effective, “…yet returning in the end / to ordinary life, the shifting tides / that hold and toss us all.” Exactly. In your poems, I love the narratives you create in your poems, yet they are still lyrical. In your opinion, why are these poems and not short stories or flash fiction?

Mike Harty: I’m glad you find the poems lyrical, as I usually feel I work to make them that way; my revising process often seems to move from something more prosy and expository to (hopefully) something more evocative and layered. I’m not at all sure of the dividing line between, say, prose poem and flash fiction: I think of the poem more in terms of the illumination of a brief moment and the fiction as having more of a timeline and a story arc, but I also think that doesn’t really hold, even in my own poems. Maybe the reliance on images versus description is another point of difference, but again far from absolute. Probably the truth is that the substance of many poems would be suitable as well for a short (even long) fiction; I think in this book that’s true of the poems about the shoeshine man and the bootlegger, for example.

Denise Low: Boundaries of genres are shifting, indeed, and I think you clarify the difference between prose poems and flash fiction well. Story is implicit in any poem, more submerged in the 21st century maybe than any other time in history. You work as a psychoanalyst, where you must hear many stories. Who are your influences in that field? Jung? And how has that work fed your creative writings?

Mike Harty: I recently looked through my accumulated poems with the question in mind of which ones visibly drew on my psychoanalytic work. I found surprisingly few. Occasionally there was a character, or a situation drawn from that experience, but I came away thinking the main influence was something less obvious but more pervasive, more in the nature of a habit of mind or an outlook on life. It has to do with recognizing complexity (especially in people’s motives), resisting quick answers, being willing to face unpleasant truths without giving in to pessimism, finding beauty without denying ugliness. Those are the aspirations, anyhow. As a psychoanalyst I’ve never been much of a Jungian, as I tend to shy away from approaches that seem overly mystical. I have, however, moved away from the more strictly Freudian orientation of my early career into what would be called a more “object-relational” approach. Probably the theorist I’ve found most influential is Donald Winnicott, a British analyst who started out as a pediatrician and had a lot of fruitful ideas about mothers and babies.

Denise Low: What are you working on next? What are some upcoming publications? Where can readers find your videos or audio readings online?

Mike Harty: I do have another chapbook coming out any time now (from Finishing Line

Press); its title is “Real Country”, and the poems deal with the world of a farm kid, which I both was and wasn’t. (My family lived on a small farm, and I went to a country school, but my father’s work as well as our church affiliation were in town.) Aside from that, there are a couple of projects that are in some stage of development. One is a modified crown of sonnets (nine

poems rather than the standard seven) portraying a baseball team (a poem for each position). I don’t know where I’ll go with that one. The other “project” is less organized, and I come back to it intermittently; it consists of poems that imagine the later life of characters in old rock-and-roll songs (“Maybelline”, “Long Tall Sally”, “Slow Walkin’ Jones”). Generally, though, I’ve found it tougher to write lately, I think mainly because political/societal issues, as well as the pandemic, have claimed so much attention. Many thanks for this opportunity. I’m not at all good at having an on-line presence, but I’m glad to hear from any readers who don’t want to deal with Amazon. They can email me at mharty2[at]kc.rr.com.

Twenty Stories: Poems by Michael Harty. $17.00. Twenty Stories – Kelsay Books 978-1639803095

Michael Harty is a Kansas City poet now, but his Texas boyhood is a continuing influence in his work. A second influence is his long career as a practicing psychoanalyst, which fosters an appreciation for the conflicts, struggles, and complexities of human life. His poems often have appeared in the Texas Poetry Calendar, as well as in other periodicals including New Letters, The Lyric, Measure, I-70 Review, Coal City Review, and others. Among his honors and recognitions are several Pushcart nominations as well as awards in a number of sonnet competitions – the Maria W. Faust Sonnet Contest, the Nebraska Shakespeare sonnet competition, the Howard Nemerov Sonnet Award contest – and in the New Letters Poetry Contest and the Rattle Magazine Ekphrastic Challenge. His first chapbook, The Statue Game, appeared in 2015; both Twenty Stories and Real Country are appearing in 2023. More about Michael Harty: Interview, Johnson County Library Meet the Author: Michael Harty | Johnson County Library (jocolibrary.org) . Mike Harty poem, 2016 in Denise Low Postings Denise Low Postings: Michael Harty, poet, reads April 17 from THE STATUE GAME

Saturday, May 20, 2023

Zoom Replay: San Francisco's Bird & Beckett! Denise Low, Art Beck, Art Goodtimes--June 8, 2023


Here is the link for the replay on the Bird & Beckett YouTube channel.

June 8, 2023- 7 pm,                              Denise Low, Kansas Poet Laureate emerita, has won a Red Mountain Press award, NEH grants, and other recognition for her writings and research. She was president of the Associated Writing Programs board and is a founding board member of Indigenous Nations Poets. Her memoir The Turtle's Beating Heart: One Family's Story of Lenape Survival is from the University of Nebraska Press. She has articles and reviews in Unpapered: Native Writers on Identity; PostIndian Aesthetics; and Marsh Hawk Press’s Chapter One series. She has a close relationship to jackalopes and sighted Bigfoot with her husband.

 Art Beck’s Opera Omnia Luxorius, a Duet for Sitar and Trombone  won the 2013 Northern California Book Award for poetry in translation. His Mea Roma, a “meditative sampling” of Martial epigrams was a runner up in the American Literary Translators Association 2018 Cliff Becker Book Prize. His Etudes, a Rilke Recital was a finalist in the 2021 NCBA. He will be reading from his 2022 volume, Angel Rain, Poems 1977-2020.

 Art Goodtimes retired in 2016 after five terms as Colorado’s only Green Party county commissioner. He co-directs the Telluride Institute’s Talking Gourds poetry project, is poetry editor for Fungi Magazine , and co-hosts the Sage Green Journal online anthology. He founded the Institute’s Prospect Basin Fen Project and its Ute Reconciliation and Indigenous Peoples Day projects and remains on their advisory boards. His poetry books include As If the World Really Mattered (La Alameda Press) and Looking South to Lone Cone (Western Eye Press). He was co-editor of the anthology MycoEpithalamia: Mushroom Wedding Poems (Fungi Press). Art’s latest book is Dancing on Edge: The McRedeye Poems (Lithic Press, Fruita, CO, 2019). A widower and a grandpa, Art lives alone on Wrights Mesa near Norwood. His oldest daughter Iris Willow and his granddaughter

 BIRD & BECKETT EVENTS (google.com) Bird & Beckett 653 Chenery Street San Francisco's Glen Park neighborhood. 415-586-3733 www.birdbeckett.com birdbeckett@yahoo.com


Friday, February 24, 2023

William J. Harris, an Ad Astra poet, is featured in Poetry (Feb. 2023)

A poem from this blog, published May 21, 2010, is among poems by friend, scholar, and poet Billy Joe Harris in a portfolio of lyrics in the Feb. issue of Poetry. I have always had the highest regard for Billy as a poet and as a person. Some of his generosity of character shines through in the Poetry interview that accompanies the portfolio. He was an essential member of the Poetini group that met regularly with Ken Irby, Judith Roitman, Stan Lombardo, Susan Harris, Joe Harrington, Jonathan Mayhew, Beth Reiber, Barnie Warf. Below is a reprint of that May 21 post, also available in the print anthology I published with the Washburn University Center for Kansas Studies, To the Stars: Kansas Poets of the Ad Astra Poetry Project.   (Another poem, "Practical Concerns" by William J. Harris is also on this blog, Nov. 13, 2010). Denise Low, Feb. 24, 2023.
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Billy Joe Harris, University of Kansas professor emeritus, spent a sabbatical year studying poets and painters, including artist Giorgio Morandi. He admires Morandi for “muted colors and radically reduced subject matter.” He employs this approach to his own verse. His work suggests narratives, but in such concise form that cultural referents may be minimal. In the poem “Sympathetic Magpies,” the Chinese origin of the legend is secondary to the universal concept of bridges. Further, the stanzas’ own parallel lines suggest intervals of bridge girders. Love creates a bridge between mortal and immortal beings, and the interplay between heaven and earth are universal. The memorable magic here is the bridge made of magpies. The poem has parable-like directness, with love that can defy the decrees of heaven. Like bridges, romance between a young weaver and herder can be set in most times and places. The Milky Way itself is another kind of bridge. Then Harris shifts to present time, inviting readers to also become part of legends through the poem. With a few simple images—lovers, Heaven, and bridges—the poet creates a story, briefly outlined yet complete like a Morandi painting. Harris said of the painter: “His quiet visual drama tells you that you need no more than these few objects to tell the human story.” This also applies to “Sympathetic Magpies.”

SYMPATHETIC MAGPIES by William J. Harris
There is an old Chinese legend
About a weaving girl and a cowherd
Falling in love and being punished
By Heaven because she was celestial
And he was a mere mortal

Heaven only allowed them to meet
Once a year
On the seventh day
Of the seventh month

The magpies were so sympathetic
Each year
On that day
They made themselves
Into a bridge
Stretching across the Milky Way
So the lovers could kiss

Poems are sympathetic magpies
Bridges between lovers
Bridges between selves
Bridges between worlds

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Education: Harris received a BA in English (Central State University 1968), MA in Creative Writing (Stanford 1971), and PhD in English and American Literature (Stanford 1974).

Career: William J. Harris is an emeritus professor of American literature, African American literature, creative writing, and jazz studies. He taught at the University of Kansas, Pennsylvania State University, and Cornell University, among other universities. He lives in Brooklyn, New York. This poet and critic’s books include: Hey Fella Would You Mind Holding This Piano a Moment (Ithaca House 1974), In My Own Dark Way (Ithaca House 1977) and Personal Questions (Leconte Publishers, Rome, 2010). He has published in over fifty anthologies. He is the author of the critical work The Poetry and Poetics of Amiri Baraka (University of Missouri Press 1985) and editor of The Leroi Jones/Amiri Baraka Reader (Thunder's Mouth Press, 1991, second edition, 2000).


Friday, December 30, 2022

Tom Weso Paintings and Denise Low Poems: A Dialogue

Thanks to folks associated with Numero Cinq! This is from 2014, and it brings back fond memories. The poems ended up in Melange Block, Red Mountain Press. Click link for full chapbook.

Cold

A family burns chairs, clothes, and axes
but nothing stops the silent killer.
Neighbors find them frozen in bed.

Another year trees explode.
Crows fall from trees.
Lakota winter counts show a black-ink crow.
Ben Kindle writes, “K’agi’ o’ta c’uwi’tat’api.”
Crows, they freeze to death.

This enemy seeps through sills and door jambs.
Chimney flues fill with its wrath.

North is its direction.
Nothing stops it from reaching
through flesh to the center of bone.

Saturday, November 19, 2022

Denise Low reviews a first book by Georgiana Valoyce-Sanchez

A Light To Do Shellwork By, by Georgiana Valoyce-Sanchez. (Scarlet Tanager Press. $18.00. ISBN

9781734531350 2022). This California Indigenous author, of Islander and Coastal Chumash people and an enrolled O’odham member, publishes her first full-length collection of poetry. This elder’s book is an important link among generations. The poems celebrate and renew family spiritual practices, as in the poem “The Fox Paw and Coyote Blessing.” It describes the narrator’s conversation with her departed grandmother:

. . . The morning of my Giveaway

at the Sunrise Ceremony

sprinkling tobacco to the east

of the ceremonial ring

I prayed to my Papago Pima gramma

who died a few years back but is

alive somewhere . . . .   (p. 35).

The narrator knows the grandmother is “alive somewhere,” and the poem adds another dimension to that reality. Another intergenerational work is “The Red Shawl,” a dramatic poem that works well on the page. Valoyce-Sanchez has faith the readers will receive her words as living testaments. Her generosity of spirit pervades the poems.

I am honored to have been asked to write the foreword to this important book, which includes these comments about the title: “Especially moving in A Light to Do Shellwork By are the poems about the narrator’s father, in his nineties, as he finds his way through blindness and memories. Respect for this man’s life embodies the respect for all the cultural traditions. His [Chumash] people have survived over five-hundred years of contact with settlers from the west and the east. Prayers, songs, dances, and poems are among the techniques of survival, for a people and for the individuals. Gratitude to Georgiana Valoyce-Sanchez for this magnificent gift” (ix-xi). A stanza from the title poem “A Light To Do Shellwork By,” tells about the day the poet’s father died, :

The ocean sang in my father’s hands

abalone pendants shimmered rainbows

from the ears of pretty girls

and shellwork dotted driftwood carvings

            cowrie shells, cone shells, volute shells

            red, black, white, blue, brown, green shells

the life they once held

sacred

old stories etched on

the lifeline of my father’s palm . . . .  (p. 61)

The verse includes culturally based topics as well as recent political issues, such as tribal terminations by the federal government. California Indigenous peoples suffered some of the worst persecutions and violence from settlers. A Light To Do Shellwork By is a healing work that looks forward without forgetting the past.

Biography: GEORGIANA VALOYCE-SANCHEZ, author of A Light To Do Shellwork By: Poems (Scarlet Tanager Books, 2022), is a descendant of Islander and Coastal Chumash Peoples from her father’s lineage, and O’odham (Akimel and Tohono) from her mother’s lineage. She is currently an enrolled member of The Coastal Band of the Chumash Nation and chair of the Chumash Women’s Elders Council for the Wishtoyo Foundation. She taught many different classes for the American Indian Studies Program at California State University, Long Beach, including two classes she designed: “World Genocides: An American Indian Perspective,” with graduate student Anna Nazarian-Peters, and “Conduits of California Indian Cultures: Art, Music, Dance and Storytelling.” She retired from CSULB in 2014, after twenty-seven years. She was a board member for many years at the California Indian Storytelling Association, and she continues to be an advocate for California Indian languages and sacred sites. Her poem “I Saw My Father Today” is on display at the Embarcadero Muni/BART station as one of twelve poems cast in bronze and placed prominently in San Francisco. 

Praise for A Light To Do Shellwork By

 "This long-awaited book of poetry by Georgiana Valoyce-Sanchez is a beautiful masterwork on how to take care of the light of knowledge given to her by family, by the lands and the waters. Each poem is as delicate and precise as a carved shell. Each shell-poem reminds us of the original purpose of poetry, to function as blessing songs, as memory holders, or observations for what is humbly important but might go unseen unless given a place to live in a poem. These poems will take you to the ocean’s edge and allow you to listen deeply to the blue deep. They will take you to the desert and sing into you the shimmer of rain feeding the generous expanse of sunlight. With this collection of poetry, you will make it home."

— Joy Harjo (Muscogee Creek Nation), 23rd U.S. Poet Laureate

 

“An illustration of intimate family history that’s a testament to the continuity of Indigenous life and poetics in California.” Kirkus Review

Monday, November 14, 2022

Meadowlark Books Publishes Denise Low's Book of Essays Jigsaw Puzzling

JIGSAW PUZZLING: ESSAYS IN A TIME OF PESTILENCE by Denise Low, Meadowlark Press. Games/Essay/Memoir

The 15 essays in this book explore the pop culture of jigsaw puzzlers while reflecting on art, geography, history, and more. Denise Low considers mosaics, reassembled pottery shards, play as rehearsal for life, and more. She quotes other literary jigsaw authors like Susan Sontag, Gaston Bachelard, Margaret Drabble and poets James Merrill and Dick Allen. “I never underestimate the power of a single puzzle piece. It fits within a whole, like each moment of my unfolding life story.” —Denise Low

Online discount 20% off. Click on this link:  PAYPAL LINK Also available on Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and the publisher’s page Meadowlark Books. Paperback, retail $20. 122 pages, ISBN 978-1956578263, 6.2 ounces, 5.98 x 0.28 x 9.02 inches.

PRAISE FOR Jigsaw Puzzling

What is a sane, reasonable response to an insane, unreasonable Pandemic? Unlike some of us who lurched into bread baking, home renovation, or exploring the life of the hermit, Denise Low instead challenged a world of logic and symmetry by setting out to master the domain of the jigsaw puzzle. This is a realm of surety: logic within defined boundaries. Solving a puzzle demands concentration and leads to a higher contemplation of morality and ethics, as well. Denise Low has brilliantly accomplished this unfolding of the simple into the multifarious with insight and charm. —Sandy McIntosh, author of Plan B: A Poet’s Survivors Manual

Obsessions never fail to get my attention, especially when they concern things I completely overlook. Jigsaw Puzzling is a dive down unsuspected rabbit holes of jigsaw culture and plague history, lessons in art, geography, and much more. If you know Denise Low’s books–I do, I’ve read them all–you know her as a sharp, droll observer of the natural world, including the world of human nature. Her quiet, poetic voice leads a reader into hidden rooms filled with surprises, striking notes that resonate deeply with the world we live in. A wonderful read with or without a pandemic! –Jim Gilkeson, author of Three Lost Worlds: A Memoir.