The Unreasonable Man

‎The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.

George Bernard Shaw
Man and Superman

Our less beautiful mythology

[I]n our less beautiful mythology, we speak of the “subliminal self,” of the “subconscious.” Of course, these words are rather uncouth when we compare them to the muses or to the Holy Ghost. Still, we have to put up with the mythology of our time.

-Jorge Luis Borges
This Craft of Verse
The Charles Eliot Norton Lectures

A writer and his notebook

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I’d been using a Circa notebook from Levenger for about a year and a half, and raving about it.  It was really great for writing and organizing, because I could rearrange infinitely, and the fact that I could rearrange was liberating, because it meant I never had to be afraid to write in it.  Lately, though, I’d found that my system of organization failed me when I tried to go back and look at the evolution of a poem, and maybe backtrack and take a different approach in revision. 

So last week, on impulse, I bought a Moleskine notebook.  (Who could resist? I mean, it is the notebook of Hemingway, right?)  Over the next few days I fell in love with it, taking notes from what I saw around me and composing two new poems.  It offered the romance that my Circa notebook lacked, and it was infinitely more portable.  Plus, as a southpaw, I liked not having the disks under my hand as I write (They’re not quite as bad as a spiral bound notebook, admittedly).

The Moleskine introduced me to a new way to work, especially on poetry: once I’ve inked up a version of a poem enough with editing, I simply rewrite it on the next page (you can kinda see the two versions of a poem here).  I can see the evolution better now, and I’ll always be able to go back and see where things went right or wrong.  I found that a year and a half with the Circa notebook had allowed me to work through any fear of “messing up” a notebook.  I can record thoughts and ideas in a stream-of-consciousness style, and follow up with those ideas at will.

A plug for Present Magazine

Just wanted to toss out a plug for Present Magazine, covering cool stuff in Kansas City. They’re celebrating their 3rd anniversary tonight with live local music at Crosstown Station, 1522 McGee.

Sonic Spectrum’s Robert Moore calls Present Magazine “The best source for Kansas City culture.” Moore is creating his own legacy as a Kansas City institution. His radio show and podcast, Sonic Spectrum, is an education in great indie music, and often highlights local musicians. His indie music label, Oxblood Records, promotes the work of Kansas City-area musicians.

Present is wrapping up a redesign of the website, but this link takes you to the archive of five of my poems published there last month.

Moleskine confessional

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I’m sorry, Circa.  It wasn’t you–it was me.  You were so flexible, so easy-going, and I took advantage of that, didn’t I?  Can we make it work, you and I?  Can I repair the damage, that broken trust?  There’s still so much to do.  You’re so well organized, and I? well, I still need you. 

It’s just that this other notebook, you see, I need it too.  Such a slim volume, with its creamy sheets.  It’ll be discreet, I promise. 

No, it’ll never be as forgiving as you.  How could it?  It’s so linear.  It shows me all my flaws, my missteps.  But it can also remember the moments of brilliance. 

Can’t it?

The dog days of poetry

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The heat has kept me out of the workshop for a while.  

Poetry, on the other hand, I can focus on in the comfort of air conditioning.  (In the circles I travel, however, it tends to place me far out in left field, next to the foul pole.) 

So I have busied myself with journal submissions, composing, revising, and reading.  I attended last month’s reading at The Writer’s Place, and read a few pieces during open mic, which was fun.  Ten years out of college, I’m still struggling to find and connect with other poets in Kansas City.

Bonny and I have kicked off a sort of stay-at-home vacation this week. (I’ve already grown tired of the term “staycation”, even if the meme itself carries some weight.)  We drove out to Lawrence yesterday and visited the natural history museum. The kids were fascinated by the fossils, dinosaur and otherwise.  After the museum, we had lunch. The fun and delicious Pollo Loco restaurant was long gone. La Parilla was not a fair substitute, and we left disappointed.

We walked along Massachusetts Street: I remember there being more bookstores than what we found this trip. The Dusty Bookshelf yielded its reward: a slim volume of poetry, “The Jacob’s Ladder” by Denise LevertovThe Raven book store offered more Levertov, but I felt greedy, hording it all, so I left it for the next adventurer. 

I love college towns, although Bonny and I agreed that Lawrence has lost some of its charm, perhaps since we spent a week in Boulder last year.  If I were not rooted by family or career, Boulder is where I would live. 

I finally got my hands on a reprint of The New American Poetry, and it has been a welcome addition to my poetry education, which stopped abruptly at T. S. Eliot.  Olson’s manifesto in particular has left a mark.  This summer has been one of Williams, Ashbery, Olson, Creeley.  I was pleased to find so much of it in my local library: Olson’s Collected Works; Ashbery’s Three Poems (a masterpiece!).  I also recently discovered PennSound‘s recordings, which are crowding out the music on my iPod. 

Hopefully Levertov will balance out my education somewhat.

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