“Leave my Grandma out of this!”O AWP, I enjoyed you so for such a short time. Here is a replay (in audio) of the panel I was on with such wonders as Lara Glenum, Danielle Pafunda, Bruce Covey, Thom Didato, and Zach Schomburg.
Met other cool poets that you can catch a glimpse of here. Wish I had met more but am on the run from Atlanta to drive north again — sorry for my absence as of late, dear regular readers (& thanks for the shout-out, Ashok! Soon my ego will know no limits …).
In other news, I discovered today that Gary Sullivan has written an ode of sorts for me, perhaps because I asked some questions about Flarf?
If I were to hazard a quick characterization of Gary’s poem, I might begin, It’s funny how some Flarfists are incredibly complex individuals who don’t prickle when Flarf is examined, especially by such an elementary person as myself (I might even use K.S. Mohammad as an example of the non-reactive Flarfist), and then note how other Flarfists instantly fly to the weapons closet for gender-specific tools that will set the battle-of-evasion in motion … (pre-emptive defenders of the faith?).
The poem itself seems to equate the persona (c’est moi?) with a terribly conservative woman so focussed on the changes in her labia, which range from rancid to bleakly blooming (side thought: no room for men? homophobic? pussipo?), that she resembles the idiot savant who sits around in love with his own farts, making insipid proclamations about some inane spiritual condition –but really really meaning it in the realm of his own vacuum (maybe he should have some kids to pass the ’shriveling’ wisdom on to …?).
But if I started really working on that reaction, someone might accuse me of not having a sense of humor (& I did start it with “It’s funny how …” and then proceeded to be not funny), so instead, I’ll just say, “How very smegma of you, Gary!”