Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Guess the Dream Poet (2013) - Part 6

Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.

* * *

__(Poet 1)__ tells me about the bombings. There's something I don't about what's going on, but people think I should know. I keep asking __(Poet 1)__ to tell me and I'm getting frustrated. Finally __(Poet 1)__ explains that a group of women poets (and maybe a few men) are behind the bombings and it's been going on for a while. The male poets are the ones who report the news, poets like __(Poet 2)__, Anderson Cooper and others. They want to report what's really going on in the Middle East, but the news station management won't let them unless it happens live during the day. So this is a way to get the news out. Maybe the men don't even know that the women poets are behind it. While I agree with the politics of getting news out, I'm very troubled by these tactics. I think of a little boy who died in a recent bombing and I get upset.

* * *

I'm reading an article about new and upcoming writers. I recognize some of the names, __(Poet 1)__ and __(Poet 2)__. I comment to __(Poet 3)__ that my father's mustache is back in style. I show the article to another person and comment on __(Poet 3)__'s mustache. I'm not sure why I brought up her mustache, it doesn't seem necessary to the discussion. I explain how few people our age have a mustache (although __Poet 3___does). I tell __Poet 3__ that must be because she's older than me and perhaps she's closer in age to my father than me. This doesn't make her happy.

* * *

I'm at my childhood home. It's wintertime and there's snow on the ground. There are postal carriers who receive sexual favors when they deliver mail--right at the mailbox. I have pictures of this. I'm concerned this involves children. It also appears that the same things is happening with cashiers at a local grocery store. I want to report all of them, but I don't know how. I walk across the street to a neighbor's home. Maybe I'm going to tell them. Chris stops me. He takes pictures of the landscape. The snow is amazing and across the street where the church and school normally would be, there's an ocean. The trees, the snow, the ocean. It's beautiful. I post the pictures to Facebook. _______ sees the pictures.

* * *

An old man poet, balding with a ponytail, is dying. The old man wants  _______ to take over his work. A nearby woman says that it would be fantastic for _______ to take over his work. I think this is a terrible position to put _______ in. He/she already has his/her own projects to take care of. I feel like nobody is thinking of _______. I give _______ a hug and tell him/her that he/she doesn't have to do this.

* * * 

A man shows me an old videotape. After we met, he thought he remembered seeing something about me from a long time ago. The recording starts halfway through some kind of newscast. There's a quote from _______ and then a report about something that happened to a young girl. The pictures from the newscast are me in 1st and 2nd grade. I have no idea what event or circumstances this old newscast is referencing. I have no memory of any of it. I decide to ask _______ about it. _______ has never mentioned anything about this before.

* * *

I'm sharing a dorm room with three other people. One of them is _______. I find _______ obnoxious. _______ is always complaining, passive aggressively, often about something that has to do with me. I'm making ________'s bed and find my book about Tarot. Earlier _______ complained that he/she didn't want that stuff near him/her, yet he/she's taken mine. I'm totally fed up with _______. I complain about _______, say that when roommates were being selected, I knew _______ would try to latch on to me because he/she has no friends.

I have a chance to get a new roommate. A really short man, like a dwarf, is selected. I talk to him, trying to figure out who he is. I'm told he's been in the 6th grade a very long time. I'm wondering then why is he going to college. Is he brilliant and being held back because of his size or does he have some kind of mental disability? Maybe there's some kind of issue with him. Maybe he rapes me or maybe he doesn't. Maybe it's somebody else. Maybe I'm in a relationship with this person. I'm not sure of any of it.

* * *

I'm in a poetry workshop. The teacher tells us to each take one of the assignments. I pick up one that asks me to draw stars on a Christmas tree and write different characteristics something should have. I'm supposed to come up with thousands. There's already a couple hundred on there. I draw a star and write "adventure" and "daring" I write a few more. Then I realize that I'm supposed to pass it around. We're all supposed to pass around these assignments to each other. I take another assignment. It's a typed prose poem. _______ ate a poem and shit it out. Apparently it took a while for the paper to pass, so he/she only had time to shit out the poem and rewrite it. Now we all need to work on it.

* * *

I'm running up a stairwell trying to escape from __Poet 1__. I see __Poet 2__. I tell __Poet 2__ not to tell __Poet 1__ that he/she has seen me. I'm in a college dormitory and run into my sister's freshman dorm room. My sister is with her roommate and two male friends. I tell them how __Poet 1__ threatened my life. Then I say that maybe __Poet 1__ is really not going to kill me but instead has written some really insane things about me. Then I notice one of the guys sitting on the bed is __Poet 1__. He's smiling and being friendly. It's like he doesn't realize that I'm talking about him. I keep talking like I'm not.

* * *

It's night, snow has fallen. _______ is standing outside of my house. I assume he/she's trying to sell me something, so I leave him/her out there. 

* * *

I'm tweeting with _______. _______ comments about how poets are getting angry because he doesn't respect their privacy of what they're posting on FB. I unfriend _______ on FB, just to make a point. I intend on refriending him when he understands. At this point we only have 2 mutual friends.

Now _______ is my husband and in the room with me. He's pissed about the unfriending. I look out the window and see thick, dark clouds. I say "there's a storm coming" and see a tiny tornado starting to form in our back yard. _______ wants to run and hide. I suggest the basement. It's my childhood basement and it's mostly empty. We then go down into the garage. It's falling apart, holes and missing bricks. The door is broken. I tell _______ that the door will have to be replaced

The storm ends and we go back upstairs. I notice the kitchen faucet is broken and gushing water. I tell _______ to fix it.

* * * 

_______ is offering to give manuscript critiques for just $19. _______ requests for the font be "lithy" and not to approach him/her if your previous work was published by "Poetry Pile."

* * *

_______ emails, calling me on something I've done. I concede that he/she has a point, but point out that he/she does the same thing and worse. As usual, _______ is being hyper-critical for his/her strange, unbalanced, emotional reasons.

Guess the Dream Poet (2013) - Part 5

Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.

* * *

_______has strange hair that sort of pops up in the back like a tail. There's something in his/her hair that does this, it looks like a tube, maybe of some kind of hair product. I want to snip it off, but know he/she wants it there, so I cover it with some kind of cup. 

I believe this looks better.

* * *

__(Poet 1)__ is responding online to jokes and insults that __(Poet 2)__ (and to a lesser extent, me) have made online about him/her. __(Poet 1) points out what we've done and said. I want to contact __(Poet 1)__ and let him/her know that anything I've ever wrote was only done in jest. __(Poet 1) somehow knows about a file folder about him/her where __(Poet 2)__ and I add our jokes and insults.

* * *

_______ recently moved to NYC. I refer to something relating to him/her as "traditional." _______ shushes me. He/she motions to his/her sister behind me. I didn't mean "traditional" as an insult, but more as a description, but perhaps the sister might not want to be referred to as traditional. I ask the sister if she lives in Wisconsin. She says that she just moved to "the city." I know she means NYC, but I think it's obnoxious when people refer to it as "the" city, so I play dumb and ask which city. When she tells me NYC I tell her that I live right outside of DC so when I hear "the city" that's what I think of.

* * *

I'm on a porch discussing politics with a group of people. George Will is here and very loud. I explain to someone that this weekly meeting has been happening for years, way back when my grandfather was alive and lived here. George Will is one of the few from that time that is still around and attends. The discussion ends. George Will gets up and walks away. he's wearing some very fashion-conscious black pants, with zippers. For a moment he looks like _______.

* * *

I'm in a car with _______. There are these "cool" poets, biker, dreadlock-wearing poets who's been ignoring me for years standing in the parking lot. I've applied for their attention before, but they continue to ignore me. They don't recognize my uniqueness or innovation. They get in their van, drive around the parking lot. I assume they're ignoring me again, but one of the cool woman poets looks at me. I wave. They stop, but want to talk to _______.They want to photograph ______ for something. _______ has only one look, it's plain and not very interesting. They want _______ to do different poses and make different faces. I try to help _______ by giving him/her direction. _______ makes some funny poses, like Rodin's thinker. They pose _______ next to a replica of a city. I suggest to _______ that he/she pick up the buildings and pretend to eat them. I think this is pretty interesting. But the cool poet photographer doesn't agree and stops snapping pictures.

* * *

_______ says she will mother me, mother me ten times.

* * *

__(Poet 1)__ developed a close relationship with __(poet 2)__. It's unclear if their relationship was platonic or more. __(Poet 1)__ described it as them be "close cousins." People didn't react well to their relationship and __(Poet 2)__ felt like she had to cut it off. I explain to __(Poet 1)__ that people discriminate against older women with younger men. __(Poet 1)__ tells me that there were serious bomb threats.

Guess the Dream Poet (2013) - Part 4

Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.

* * *

_______ is working on a PhD. There's something wrong with _______, some kind of alzheimer's and he/she seems to be slowly loosing it. There's a bunch of hypodermic needles and some kind of serum that he/she's supposed to inject him/herself with. A girl I don't like from high school is here teasing/bullying _______. I tell the bully to stop. I ask _______ how much longer he/she needs to finish her PhD., I'm worried he/she'll have lost his/her mind before she completes it. He/she has one more class to take and then he/she has to write her thesis -- so I'm guessing 2-3 years, maybe. I'm worried that's too long. _______ says that his/her advisor believes that he/she's really improved recently and a level he/she hasn't been before. I don't share that opinion.

I'm cleaning up and putting all of _______'s needles back into a case. Some of the needles get stuck in my shin and calf. I pull them out. I'm hoping these aren't the needles that _______ has already used, I'm concerned about being infected with something. 

* * *

There's a rivalry between __(poet 1)__ and __(poet 2)__. I'm staying out of it. __(Poet 1) is acting like he/she doesn't really care about it, but I hear from some guy that __(poet 1)__ has a plan to send __(poet 2) to jail in 30 minutes. I have no problem with __(poet 2) going to jail, but I don't want to be part of anything that's not on the up and up. I don't want to frame __(poet 2)__. I just want him/her to go away.

* * *

Canadian poets want to talk to me. Every Canadian poet except __(poet 1)__. 

I'm in __(poet 2)__'s office which is a tent. His/her desk is covered with unorganized papers. He/she gives me a six figure check that Canadian poets raised for Barack Obama that he/she wants me to deliver. __(Poet 2)__ also gives a second paper for me. I put both items in my purse to keep them safe. When __(poet 2)__ leaves, I look for some note paper to leave him/her a thank you note, but everything is already written on, include all of the stick-it notes. I cross-stitch a quick note that says "Canadian Poets Rock."

 __(Poet 2)__ returns and unstitches my lettering because he/she thinks its sloppy and wants to redo it.

I am insulted.

* * *

Chris and I are talking about _______'s work. Chris believes _______'s second book contains all his/her woman poems whereas his/her first book contains all his/her penis poems. I say that I don't know. _______ has written a lot of poems.

* * *

I'm talking to a class about Flarf. I can't see the class. Someone challenges me about Flarf, says I don't know any Flarf. So I name names. I mention __(poet 1)__ and __(poet 2)__. A fancy Lexus drives by. A woman in the back seat holds her glass out the window. She wants some of __(poet 2)__'s bourbon. __(Poet 2)__ pours her a glass.

I tell the students that my favorite Flarf book is by __(poet 3)__. I say how one time I sent __(poet 3)__'s publisher, __(poet 4)__, some money for some work that he/she never did. I want to teach his/her book, but it's out-of-print. So I'm using a computer program that converts the out-of-print book into a new file format. It's making a drawing of a high heel shoe with a pointy toe. Each short line, from point to point, is a line from a poem in the book. It's all connected.

Poets converge on __(poet 4)__'s house to help him/her with the press. __(Poet 5)__ enters holding a bag of golf clubs and tennis balls. He/she explains how he/she helped a woman lose weight. Someone makes a snotty comment, "Oh, let me guess, you told her to eat less and exercise more."

Guess the Dream Poet (2013) - Part 3

Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.

* * *

In a pond, there's some kind of creature holding a pearl. I go into the water and grab the pearl. A big schnauzer pursues me, won't leave me alone. I keep trying to push the dog away, give it the slip, but I can't shake it. In the water below a stingray follows the dog. This is a problem because I can't get away from the dog. I can't seem to push either away.

Somehow I get out of the pond. I'm in a childhood room. G is scuttling back and forth really quickly, like a crab. Somehow this all relates back to _______.

* * *

_______ and I are standing around, talking and planning to do something. Right before we do it, someone else does something that lights up the network and beats us to it.

A tunnel-like hole (blackhole, wormhole ?) opens up in the floor just a few feet away. Like looking down into a tunnel into space. G is nearby and I show him, but tell him to be sure not to fall into it because I'll never be able to get him back. G backs up. He sees _______'s coat on the floor, picks it up and drops the coat into the hole to see what would happen. _______ is beside himself/herself and looks at me. I look down the hole and I see that the coat is still stuck at the top, but I don't try to pull it out, seems too dangerous. Then G steps right into the hole and goes down. I see _______'s coat is still stuck at the top, but no G, he fell through. I start to scream. If this is a dream I want to wake up. I fall down to the ground.

I wake up still screaming. I'm in a house, screaming and crawling on the floor. I wonder if possibly I've ended up where G went. I go into an all white room and see a nerdy, Conan Obrien-type man trying to figure something out. I believe that I have no hope of ever getting G back, but I ask the man for help. The man tells me that he has no idea how any of this works.

* * *

I'm at a school function. I'm walking up stairs with G and _______. _______ is holding tightly onto my arm. I ask several times for him/her to let go, but he/she doesn't. I ask him/her to go somewhere else, but he/she doesn't. One of G's teachers walks up the stairs behind us. I feel like we look terrible in front of the teacher. I sent G into the classroom and take _______'s arm, I tell him/her that he/she's not listening and making us look terrible. I then threaten to beat him/her up. _______ is angry with me. I'm angry with _______.

* * *

I'm in a bar. A man follows a woman to a backroom to harass her. I follow and yell at the man. I tell the women not to go back there alone. The women don't seem to appreciate my help. The whole situation makes me very angry.

I hear that __(poet 1)__died. I try to read about it in the Washington Post, but another poet grabs it form me. I read half the story in the Washington Post online, but can't get the whole story because its behind a paywall. The part of the article I read is how he/she'll be missed, the poetry scholarship fund his/her will sets up. Now I'm really sad. I check his/her FB wall to see when the last time he/she posted. It looks like September 10. I'm wondering when he/she died and how. 

I ask __(poet 2)__. __(poet 2)__ says that both __(poet 1)__ and his/her spouse died in their parked car. Another car drove over four layers of cars and on top of theirs. __(poet 2)__ thinks it sounds suspicious. Why did the car do that? Was the driver drunk? Was it intentional? That information is not available.

 __(poet 1)__'s parents are the owners of the bar, working behind the counter. I'd been at the bar all this time and didn't know about their loss. I try to walk into the women's restroom, but hear one of the hostesses speaking to another hostess about getting __(poet 1)__'s dad to come in and help them. Something really gross and awful is going on, a toilet isn't flushing. I say that I don't have to go that bad. For some reason I keep touching the floor (like I'm crawling) in the bar. It's dirty and sticky.

* * *

I'm  joining _______'s press. I'm looking at the Statcounter and the Google Adsense data. A while back the press' website made $28 in one day. It made $4 recently and two $1 days -- from my usage on the website. I'm very impressed. I'm not yet mentioned on the website.

There's a picture of _______ with 3 older ladies. One is Betty White. The picture is taken at a Washington monument. It's kind of arty they're all looking away and sitting in a row. The women are wearing matching t-shirts with a cardigan sweater over top.

Guess the Dream Poet (2013) - Part 2

Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.

* * *

I'm talking with _______ about giving advice to people.That it's easy to spend a lot of energy and time answering people's questions and giving guidance, but often they won't actually do the project they're inquiring about. I say that it's good to help people, but not to immerse yourself totally in their work and not to be upset if they don't do the work they say they're interested in.

I walk up the driveway of a childhood home. There's a garden that a guy asked my advice on, but he never followed it. There are plants with blue flowers/pods. I take a few and eat them. They have a drug-like reaction. I'm amazed at how high they make me feel and how powerful. I'm feeling very alive and desirous.

* * *

I'm with my Dad. We're watching a video by _______ My dad is of mixed opinions of _______. He likes some of his/her work, but finds some of _______ disturbing. I don't think he's made a final decision on _______. _______ refers to me in his/her video, something about how he/she likes my work. He/she calls me "Rebecca" instead of Reb.

* * *

_______is on tour for her book. She's standing around, talking to people. She's wearing a skirt. She's pretty and in very good shape. She looks great.

* * * 

I'm in Europe at a dinner. I learn that this meal was planned and that 30 years ago I was part of a study run by a group of nuns. They've been tracking us the whole time to see what became of us.  I have no memory of ever being part of any study. I'm a little skeeved out about it.

I'm dress sloppily for this meal and want to change. I see a friend from high school. She let's me borrow her clothes. I show her a tattoo on my leg. It's smudged, but still there. My friend has this same tattoo. So does _______. 

I'm taking a shower in the middle of a room where people are walking in and out. I'm using _______'s facewash and shampoo.

Now I'm wearing better clothes. I have to two pairs of shoes to choose from: one pair is a purple/burgundy that I fear might be too matchy-match with my pants. The other pair is silver.

A woman who was also part of the study (and remembers it) shows me pictures from that time, when we were children. There also is photograph of a woman listed as a fortune teller.

* * *

Even when vegetables begin ranking and prioritizing they begin with the meat and potatoes of their groups.

There are two groups of poets. Beginning with _______.

Guess the Dream Poet (2013) - Part 1

Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.

* * *

I'm at a party. A bunch of us are talking smack about _______. I talk some smack about him/her and his/her dad. _______ walks into the party. I sit on a chair in the corner and revise my book. It has the same black cover as The Memory Reader, but it's a draft of my book mixed in with an anthology that I edited.

_______ sits next to me and asks about the book. He/she clearly feels very confident and back in his/her game because he/she says, "Let's go make love." 

I snap back, "Absolutely not" so quickly and forcefully that he/she seems taken aback. I say that I'm sorry, but I need to be very clear on this matter.

* * *

I'm in a storage room talking about prom gowns and how they're so casual these days. Then I'm in a theatre audience watching a play where women sing, including Kristin Stewart and _______, sing from caskets. They sounds great.

Someone passes out gifts to the women in the play who are sitting in the audience. They're receiving beautiful, sparkling jewelry. ______ gets me a gift too. At first it looks like inexpensive costume jewelry bracelets, but after looking at it closer, I realize that it's four unmatched (right-handed) gloves. One is long and seems like it would keep my book-holding arm warm when rest of me is under a blanket reading. I'm not sure if I would use these single gloves and am considering taking them back to the store for a refund, but it doesn't seem like I'd get a lot of money for them.

* * *

_______ wants to charge a $20 reading free to encourage poets only to send their best work. Some guy and I agree that's a jerk thing to do.

* * *

I'm in bed with JFK talking about a book about JFK that I'm reading. There's some confusion about the author and which book I'm reading. The cover looks like Black Antoinette: The Work of Olaf Hajek. Then I'm in bed with some other guy that I don't want JFK to know about.  Then it switches again and I'm in bed with _______.

* * * 

I'm in a neighborhood in Homestead called Baby Uplands. I tell __(poet 1)__ that he/she should tell his/her friend, Baby Shambles (meaning __poet 2__) about this place.

* * *

I'm playing a video matching game with _______. He/she gets the first match. Then I get one too. Now we're supposed to convince some kind of mythological woman to touch us. We walk into a room and there are some scary women with octopus legs. I'm thinking they're not who I'm supposed to get in touch with. I need to find the mythological woman who's more like a mermaid. 

I find her. She's kind to me. I raise my hands, in hopes that she'll touch me, but she walks away abruptly. Then she becomes a man and mansplains to us that to be touched that way would be to take us out of this realm. He says that we should be part of this realm and that this realm has its own magic. Being sent to the other realm makes it so you can't really have contact with this realm. 

I understand all this and I really don't want to go into the other realm, but it's the next thing I'm supposed to do. Reluctantly, the man touches me and I change. He hands me a platter that falls through my hands and onto the floor.

The Dream Poet Anthology 2013

Below are the names of poets who made appearances or were mentioned in my dreams during 2013. Some of these poets I know well, others are acquaintances and some are complete strangers. If you find your name is on this list and you do not know me, it means that I know of you via your work or reputation and my psyche has attached some type of meaning or symbolism on you to represent something. Maybe I follow you on Twitter? Maybe somebody I follow retweeted one of your tweets? Maybe you post really obnoxious Facebook updates that haunt me late at night?

Or maybe it means something else completely. Who can say with any certainty what a dream means? Maybe it means you've been selected for a psychic quest of great importance? Maybe it means I'm watching you through a pair of binoculars at this very moment? Who knows. 

Just don't ask me for details of the dream. Seriously, don't. Every year people disregard this note and ask me. It's usually people who appeared in my dreams as corpses. So for the sake of everyone's mental health, I'm not telling you. 

2013 Contributors:

Deborah Ager, Hugh Behm-Steinberg, Aaron Belz, April Bernard, Anselm Berrigan, Lucy Biederman, Julie Bloemeke, Anne Boyer, Brandon Brown, Blake Butler, Laura Carter, Lucille Clifton, Kelly Cockerham, Shanna Compton, Eduardo Corral, Bruce Covey, Catherine Daly, Peter Davis, Teri Cross Davis, Oliver de la Paz, Alex Dimitrov, Michael Dumanis, Donald Dunbar, Thomas Sayers Ellis, Jill Alexander Essbaum, Jenny Factor, James Franco, Elisa Gabbert, Neil Gaiman, Roxane Gay, Kim Gek Lin Short, Bernadette Geyer, Tod Goldberg, Nada Gordon, Lea Graham, Jorie Graham, Arielle Greenberg, Charles Jensen, Joe Harrington, Rebecca Hazelton, Patrick Herron, Ron Hogan, Major Jackson, Bhanu Kapil, Kirsten Kaschock, Collin Kelley, CaitlĂ­n R. Kiernan, Kevin Killian, Amy King, Alan King, Rauan Klassnik, Becca Klaver, Jennifer L. Knox, David Lehman, Jon Leon, Patricia Lockwood, Natalie Lyalin, Tony Mancus, Cate Marvin, Joseph Massey, David McDonald, Erika Meitner, Chris Murray, Gina Myers, Micki Myers, Aimee Nezhukumatathil, Daniel A. Nicholls, Mel Nichols, Seth Oelbaum, Ed Ochester, Maria Padhila, Danielle Pafunda, Richard Peabody, Jessica Piazza, Scott Pierce, Nate Pritts, PF Potvin, Michael Quattrone, Adam Robinson, Anthony Robinson, Steve Roggenbuck, Sean Rohwedder, Lee Ann Roripaugh, Kathleen Rooney, Ken Rumble, Allyson Salazar, Elizabeth Savage, Steven Schroeder, Zach Schomburg, Evie Shockley, Laurel Snyder, Ricco Siasoco, Martha Silano, Sandra Simonds, Laura Sheahen, Nicole Steinberg, Janaka Stucky, Gary Sullivan, Maureen Thorson, Rich Villar, Chris Vitiello, Allyssa Wolf, C. Dale Young, Dean Young, Mike Young

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: I'm a writer, but not a poet. Why am I included on a poet list?
A: Simmer down and accept the compliment.

Q: Can I submit my work for next year's anthology?
A: This anthology only accepts psychic submissions. Submit to my unconscious and perhaps you will be allowed in.

Q: Does my appearing on this list mean that you are obsessed with or stalking me? 
A: Possibly. 

Q: Will you tell me the details of the dream I appeared in? 
A: No, absolutely not. Assume the dream was totally demented and would disturb you a great deal. I will not tell you.

Q: I'm a poet and I'm psychically awesome, why aren't I included in this anthology?
A: There are three possible reasons you are not included:

1. You didn't appear in my dreams in 2013. Resolve in 2014 to be more ambitious psychically.
2. You did appear in my dreams, but I don't remember. I forget many dreams. Your omission is a simple case of editorial oversight. You were screwed, unintentionally.
3. You did appear in my dreams, but I am loathe to publicly admit such a thing. This applies to a small percentage of poets appearing in my dreams. Your omission is a simple case of editorial bias. You were screwed, intentionally.

Mad Poet Libs:

Guess the Dream Poet - Part 1 (2013)

Guess the Dream Poet - Part 2 (2013)

Guess the Dream Poet - Part 3 (2013)

Guess the Dream Poet - Part 4 (2013)

Guess the Dream Poet - Part 5 (2013)

Guess the Dream Poet - Part 6 (2013)

Past anthologies:

The Dream Poet Anthology 2012

The Dream Poet Anthology 2011

The Dream Poet Anthology 2010

The Dream Poet Anthology 2009

Saturday, December 14, 2013


(Collage by Lynn Behrendt)

Excerpts from my novel, Bombyonder, appear in Issue #6 of PEEP/SHOW (along with work by Amaranth Borsuk & Kate Durbin, Chris Piuma, Michael Ruby, Keiko Sono, Tom Beckett, j/j hastain, Nance Van Winckel, Anna Elena Ayre, Michael Peters, Cheyenne Nimes, Anselm Berrigan, Geof Huth and Dorothy Albertini).

Here's a sample:

On this meeting with this particular ancestor named Carry, I was surprised by her mask and its thickness. Hardly a way in or out. Not at all clownish but with brown scales, leather and bolts.

How strange to hear her speak through the clamp for a mouth and to be seen through her single tiny eyehole. How muffled her words sounded through the barriers. How uncomfortable to know she cried behind that foulness not because it was foul, but for the sake of her brother, an accused molester of the vulnerable.

Trouble with the law. There’s always so much trouble with laws for this family.

Who did this to you?

“The women and children, like they always do, their cruel, perverted imaginations that they just can’t keep to themselves. They have to share, and share for years, they whisper and then they group together and then they testify and allow it all to go down as record. They perverted it all, smote his perfect legacy.”

No, I mean who put that mask on you? Why are you still wearing it? What is behind it?

“My brother placed it on me, for my salvation. He’s my protector. There are so many terrible women and children spouting their wretched tales, repeating and publicizing. They let nothing go! What lies behind this mask hasn’t yet been penetrated. So little left that hasn’t been penetrated. My face is one of the last pure bastions.”

You can hardly see or speak through that mask and it smells like your skin is decaying under there.

“Yes, the decay keeps me safe. Frightens away the children and many of the women too. No one is going to scavenge me for their depraved narratives. Forever I remain unmolested.”

But her corpsed-face remained unmolested no longer.

Because now I was there, smelling it, imagining its appearance, inventing my memories.

Go here to read the rest

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Monday, November 25, 2013

Graduation Day

Loki graduates from his beginner-level obedience course. We're all very proud.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

fiction & minecraft

I have 9 flash fiction pieces from Bombyonder in the new Map Literary. 

No titties, but maybe you'll like them anyway? 

But seriously, "A Good Titty is Hard to Find" is getting a lot of attention.

I write and write and write years of torment and it's deafening crickets. I write "titty" "titty" "titty" and suddenly I'm universal.

The world wants what the world wants.

G is obsessed with Minecraft. This Halloween he was Minecraft Universe. None of the olds knew what he was, but the kids, they knew.

Monday, October 28, 2013


Every seven years or so I write a poem that people want to read. It must be about that time again because Rauan Klassnik has selected my poem "A Good Titty Is Hard To Find" for his Poem-A-Day series. Now for those of you reading at work, I should warn you that this poem uses the word "titty" in case that kind of language is deemed inappropriate at your place of employment. I don't want anyone getting in any trouble over one good titty poem.

Saturday, October 5, 2013

The Bibliomancy Oracle's Government Shutdown Prophecies

The Bibliomancy Oracle currently offers over 1800 potential prophecies. Last night I asked a series of questions regarding the government shutdown. I asked each question once and included below the first answer given:

How will the shutdown play out for the Tea Party?

Fail. Now—
there’s a beautiful name for a girl.


from “The Dutiful Sister Ever Failing” by Kirsten Kaschock

How will the shutdown play out for the Republicans in general?

The sleeper in our bed isn’t us
but a projection, a template to dream on.


from “HAMARTIA” by Alexis Orgera

How will the shutdown play out for the Democrats?

I suspect you enjoy your crank letters to advice columnists. Still, you’re not doing anything wrong, so please don’t give it up yet. Regret is the cancer of life.


from “Looking For a Few Miles of Adventure with Dear Abby” by T.A. Noonan

How will the shutdown play out for President Obama?

That was before there was no way to get to
The other side without going the long way around,


from “Was” by Dara Wier

How will the shutdown play out for House Speaker Boehner?

When you listen to Leonard Cohen to cheer up,
you know it’s pretty bad.


from “You Know It’s Pretty Bad” by Gary Charles Wilkens

How will the shutdown play out for the furloughed government workers?

Brand new weather is never in question

No need to remove the you, just enjoin foreign tongues

Add another row of chairs

Welcome the aquarium above your head


from “Fixing” by Jackie Clark

How will the shutdown play out for American citizens?

You can feel good about half of everything & the half that seems to be missing Just feel for it


from “You Can Feel Good About” by Frank Sherlock

How will the shutdown play out for the rest of the world?

It wouldn’t have mattered if you danced
all night, let your breasts
shimmy out of the slim top


from “STACCATO” by Marvin Shackelford

* * *

Well, there you have it. So says the Bibliomancy Oracle!

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

bombyonder and beyond

Selections from my novel, Bombyonder, were recently published in Redux (an earlier version of this piece appeared in the print publication Eleven Eleven) and the Prose Poem issue (guest edited by Abigail Beckel) of Beltway Poetry Quarterly. In this Beltway issue there's also work by Paulette Beete, Nancy Naomi Carlson, Grace Cavalieri, Gail Braune Comorat, J.K. Daniels, Christina Daub, Barbara Westwood Diehl, Danielle Evennou, David Gewanter, Barbara Goldberg, Michael Gushue, Daniel Gutstein, Donald Illich, Danuta Kosk-Kosicka, Caryn Lazzuri,Flavian Mark Lupinetti, Tony Mancus, David McAleavey, Chloe Yelena Miller, E. Ethelbert Miller, Lalita Noronha, A.K. Padovich, Elizabeth Poliner, Elisavietta Ritchie, Jane Satterfield, Diamond J. Sharp, Eleanor Bevil Tipton, Jessie van Eerden, Stacia Cyrene Yearwood.

I'm nearing the point where I need to decide how I'm going to release Bombyonder as a whole into the world. There are a handful of presses I have in mind to approach. Still researching others that I think would be open to this strange book. I'm also considering putting it out myself. Pros and cons to both options. I'm calling Bombyonder a "novel" and it mostly is, although I've been publishing pieces from it as "poetry," "prose," "fiction," "hybrid" or whatever the editor wants to call it. I used to care a lot more about how my work was labelled than I do now. If you have any suggestions for presses or you are an publisher interested in seeing the manuscript, let me know.

Here's a brief synopsis:

After agreeing to her father’s request to slit his throat so his much anticipated legacy can begin, the unnamed protagonist swallows his invention, a “kind” bomb in pill form. This triggers a psychic shattering of sorts which begins with her barfing up a dead bird that she is compelled to rebirth/replace/bury (she’s not sure) by embarking on a fragmented psychic excavation where she commits an additional murder of her husband Um, meets a parrot-faced cat girl and a boy on a donkey and then creates a new lover by decoupaging her husband’s corpse with denim and other household craft items.

Throughout the novel the protagonist struggles to recognize both the roots of her malaise and why she repeatedly searches for solutions/escape through her bizarre partnerships with men. She muddles through with help from her friend, Lily, a straight-texter who lives in a box inside a box and by mysterious, anonymous notes written to her by the Carries, her long gone female ancestors and the example of Medusa, her role model. When the protagonist finally acknowledges that romantic partnerships are not the way to improve on her situation, she connects with her unconceived brother, Rauan, who never existed (due to a genetic condition affecting all the women on her mother’s side that doesn’t allow male zygotes to develop in their wombs). Rauan desperately wants to connected with their abusive mother, the Worm Queen, while the protagonist makes plans to smother her to death with a pillow. Friction develops between the siblings who clearly desire different outcomes and as Rauan tries to overcome his non-conception to become a tangible, corporeal being.

Eventually the protagonist alone must face her worm-filled mother, avenge Rauan’s non-conception, figure out how to birth her vomit bird and through personal historical revisionism create a new life for herself and those she brings with her.

* * *

You know, your typical realist fare.

Friday, August 9, 2013

new fiction & berlin

I have three short fiction pieces from Bombyonder up at Hobart. You should read them.

My work these days walks the wire between poetry and fiction. So I'm happy to categorize it however an editor wants.

For the most part.

I think.

We just got back from Berlin last night. Had a great trip. Below is Gideon & me waiting to meet Bernie Geyer & family at the Natural History museum.

This is pretty much how we look these days.

G is a tall kid. And his orthodontia bills are going to break our bank.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

worms & poems

I have two pieces from Bombyonder in the final Fringe Magazine. They had a good run and I'm honored to have work in the last issue.

Today my work from Bombyonder has been "made over" or "remixed" by Rauan Klassnik at HTMLGIANT.

Rauan was gentle. He only made me cry twice.

G dug up all the worms used in the photo shoot. It would not be an exaggeration to say that it was something he was truly thrilled to participate in.

And yes, I really put worms on my face. I tried to put one up my nose, but it wouldn't stay and I was impatient to get the worm off my face.

I have now have a collection of "rejects" from the photo shoot. Thank god for social media because what else would I do with them?

Thursday, June 13, 2013

new work from Bombyonder

I have four new poems (?) from my novel (?) Bombyonder in Similar Peaks.

If you're interested in catching a glimpse of what I've been working on the past year and a half, there it is.

We're supposed to be getting two rounds of "serious" thunderstorms tonight and tomorrow afternoon, tomorrow being the most severe (and right during the time I pick up G from school). After the significant flooding we got two years ago (when I couldn't even make it to G's school and a tree fell on top off a school bus of special needs kids several yards feet away from the school), the derecho of last summer when several homes in our tree-filled neighborhood were damaged and Hurricane Sandy when a massive tree crushed our next-door neighbor's home (they just moved back last month after the repairs were finally finished) -- I don't mess around when we get these warnings. C is out-of-town this week, but don't worry, in case we lose power (we almost always do) 8 year-old G showed me how to use our portable generator so we don't lose all the food in our fridge and how to manually open the garage door. These days he's totally a grown-ass man. He's taller than my chin and has started calling me his "little girl" which he's not allowed to do until he is actually taller than me, which shouldn't be until about another two years, if I'm lucky. I could become his "little girl" as early as next year at the rate he's growing.

And that's what I get for mating with a giant.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Introducing Gilt Gilda

Been working with some folks on a fun, glossy magazine-type project on Pinterest called Gilt Gilda.

Gilt Gilda is an unruly hoard of cultural capital anxious to be squandered on something truly splendid. Pins by Reb Livingston, Rauan Klassnik, Rebecca Hazelton + guest curators: Jeannine Hall Gailey, Jennifer Barnes and many more to come.

So if you're on Pinterest, please follow us. And if you're not, maybe considering creating an account and following us.

Some of our boards:

Resurrection Request: Who and what we'd like to raise from the dead

Wrapper Gazing: What's on the outside

If I was Nic Cage's Mistress: Oh the things we'd do

A Taste of Rauan's Rabbits & Other Wildlife: From Rauan Klassnik's personal preserve

Reb's Cabinet of Curiosities: Pins from Reb Livingston's fabled vault of sorcery & whimsy

Rebecca's Garden of Questionable Delights: Rebecca Hazelton is bringing out the hoes

Jeannine Hall Gailey: Guest Board

Jennifer Barnes: Guest Board

And more to come, of course, there's always much much more.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

And the Big Poetry Giveaway Winner is . . .

Rena Rossner

Congratulations Rena. Please email me your postal address (reb (at) rebaroni (dot) com).

Thank you to everyone who participated. Hope all your poetry dreams came true during National Poetry Month.

I had a wonderful NaPoWriMo -- thanks for asking!

Thursday, April 4, 2013


I'm posting my NaPoWriMo poems everyday on my tumblr here.

If you haven't already, enter my big poetry giveaway here.

That is all.

For now.

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Big Poetry Giveaway

I have some extra awesomesauce poetry books, so I'll be participating in the Big Poetry Giveaway.

I'll be giving away the demented, The Moon's Jaw by Rauan Klassnik (Black Ocean) and a copy of my most recent collection, God Damsel (No Tell Books).

How to Enter:

Leave a comment on this blog post with your name and email between now and April 30th, 2013 at midnight (PST).

I will pick an entry at random the week of May 1. The winner will receive a copy of both books.

Anyone, except NaPoMo Scrooge Rauan Klassnik, may enter.

Saturday, March 30, 2013

speaking of oracles

Astrologer Jessica Adams put together a list of the best free oracles and included the Bibliomancy Oracle.

At the end, she tests each oracle by asking what was Princess Diana's life about. As usual, the Bibliomancy Oracle responded like a psychic champ:

shopping for hats that convey a spirit

of adventure? You are a pizza party laughing

at toppings. You fill up this map with tiny

blips of awe.


Monday, March 18, 2013


Since last year I’ve been using my Psychic Memoir tumblr as scratch paper for ideas/drafts for my novel-in-progress, Bombyonder. From here on out, I’ll be shifting Psychic Memoir to a more general/personal blog. During April, I’ll be posting poems for NaPoWriMo. After that, we’ll see.

I started a tumblr specific to Bombyonder here. There I’m posting a selection of reconstructed memory and historical fragments that appear in and/or influence the novel. In in some ways it’s a never ending project.

Also, the Bibliomancy Oracle is on tumblr. As of this writing, there are over 1400 prophecies. I add new ones each week. If you’re interested in following the new prophecies as I add them, you can follow that too. Or you can just go straight to the oracle and ask away.

I don't post too frequently on this blog anymore, but if you wish, you can keep up with my various online incarnations at the above tumblrs and on Twitter, Pinterest and Goodreads.

When I went on "sabbatical" last year, I decided not be on the radar as much as before. Not disappearing, just blending into the wall. The new perspective has been helpful in allowing me to better refocus my own work and personal interests. I haven't had an AWP nightmare in a very long time.

p.s. If you haven't migrated your Google Reader subscriptions yet, I've been using and recommend Feedly. After a day of getting used to it, I find that I prefer it to Reader.

Monday, February 25, 2013

next big thing

Trevor Calvert tagged me for The Next Big Thing. Here's my self-interview:

What is the working title of the book?


Where did the idea come from for the book?

The concept is that it's a "psychic memoir" meaning that it reads as a personal record of a mental/supernatural phenomena. Since it's a "memoir" the memories recovered are treated as truth, there's no question as to whether or not something "really" happened. The protagonist doesn't wake up and go "oh, it was just a dream" and it's not a hallucination. The book works under the belief that the mental/supernatural spaces we move in and out of are indeed quite "real." The veracity of the events is not what's in question, but the perspectives/motivations of the characters and what the protagonist extracts and concludes from these recovered truths. These psychic events expand, overlap and evolve as their own spaces. It's these events and experiences that are accounted for by the protagonist.

The influences for this idea come from everywhere: bibliomancy, Tarot, books, films, memories and fragments, physical experiences, dreams, fantasies, the news, religious and mythological texts and on and on.

What genre does your book fall under?

Fiction. I read somewhere that people like to read novels, so I thought I'd give that a try since I'd like for people to read it. Also, even though it IS a memoir, I don't want to be in the position where I have to PROVE something REALLY HAPPENED.

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

Lena Headey, Cate Blanchett or (in 15 years from now) Jennifer Lawrence for the protagonist. Amy Sedaris as Lily, the straight-texting friend who lives in a box inside a box. For Rauan, the unconceived brother, maybe Patton Oswalt.

What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

Lady swallows a bomb in pill form (invented by her father), barfs up a dead bird and embarks on an excavation layered with murder, sexual politics, patriarchy, matricide and ancestral torment along with a parrot-faced cat girl, a boy on a donkey, a terrifyingly handsome lover, an unconceived brother, a straight-texting friend who lives in a box inside a box and Medusa.

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

I'm still writing it, so 14 months and counting.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

My unflinching desire to set the record STRAIGHT and then blow it to SMITHEREENS to see what's inside.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

I haven't thought too much on that yet. Right now I'm focusing on finishing the manuscript. I'm open to both possibilities, but there's probably a slightly higher chance that I'll publish it myself because I tend to want to be the one who makes the decisions. Sometimes I have trust issues.

I'm not sure who hasn't been tagged yet, but I don't think I've seen a selfie by: Rauan Klassnik or Hugh Behm-Steinberg. Anyone else want to be tagged who hasn't been?