Last August Poems

Hey, I liked Figgie Creamcheese's poem and want to see more from her. I have an ass handicap myself and tend to slide off plastic furniture. (BTW, Catty thought Figgie's name was too close to Finny Deerfield; I say if so, let them fight it out over coffee.) As far as P-Woody's ''Conversations with My Wife," I'm surprised he submitted that poem. Everyone knows his wife, right? G-Ro? (Gina Rodriguez, the singer; from the boogie-down Bronx; Gina from around the block) She's a handful. Well, more than a handful, much more. If she reads that poem I wouldn't be surprised if she pulls a gun on P while they're out at a club or driving his SUV. Woody's lucky she has no appreciation for poetry. Marybeth Niederkorn's poem I think we talked about last time. Existential fishing. Does a river run through that poem? And G. Nash--don't you love that name?

Technical Glitches

So, you may think everything works perfectly at the site every week--hah! but you'd be wrong. Oh, the poems went up fine, thanks to the adequate work of our Web lackey R. Narvaez. But the podcast that is up there right at this minute is the wrong podcast. It's the first run of episode 5, but that was redone with a new intro and other poems, plus a plug for Graham Everett's gig at Cafe 87 tonight. Not that we like to point fingers around here, but actually we do. And it's P-Woody's fault. Woody, as many of you may know, has been trying to lauch his new line of fragrance products; recently, he hurt his back while trying to lift a three-gallon jug of cologne. So, he's been kind of laid up, but he sure does smell good. He wrote ''Ah shoot. I've been too preoccupied with pain. I didn't send episode 5 for this week. will do today and get it to ern [our engineering officer].'' So, we hope to have the right episode up later today and to rework the one that's up there now (for better sound quality, etc.). But anyway whatcha think of this week's poems?

Monkey Business

The poetry readings run by Robert McNamara are unique, as far as I'm concerned. These are the Mind Gorrilla readings he hosts at the Aubergine Cafe in Woodside, Queens; the readings celebrate and plug his literary zine Mind Gorrilla (although there is a heavy asinine poet presence in it ever since Bob joined the asinine zoo). And the unique element--well, besides Bob and the wonderful local poets who come by and perform, and besides the large simian doll named Aldo that site at the front of the room during every performance--are the noisemakers. Bob decided years ago that poetry readings were too polite and the smattering applause was not only dull but not very participatory. He decided to make the reading more interactive. So he got a bunch of New Year's Eve noisemakers--the rattling things, the little horns, some balloon whistle things (I apologize; I'm sure the folks who manufacture these things have very specific names for them)--and places several on every table in the room. And he encourages you, rather than applaud, you should rattle or whistle, or blow that metal horn that is usually heard only once a year. It sounds chaotic but it's quite a bit of fun. It gets the audience excited and gives the performer quite a bit of love and energy. (Though I'd hate to be the person who came by just for camomile tea and got caught in the middle of a reading.) Anyways, last Saturday was the latest reading--were you there?--and Bob hosted and read, R. Narvaez (introduced as the asininepoetry.com Web lackey) read, as did April Clinton (somewhat reluctantly, as she'd forgotten to bring printouts of her work and had only a couple from the book to read). The editors of asinine are thinking of adopting Bob's noisy idea, and maybe adding M-80s and cherry bombs. Catty Marlboro says she would add a police siren. That crazy Cat.

Just this Friday

Seriously, any thoughts on this week's poems? I don't ask because I have one up there. I mean, I don't just ask because I have one up there--"The Road I've Taken," a shameless ripoff of Robert Frost, who is actually one of my poetic heroes. There's also a haiku by famous poet Hal Sirowitz. He sent us a bunch in and we'll be parcelling them out like sweet, rare chocolates. New poet Staci Class is in there. She came to the site after a suggestion by Dustin Michael (pictured). Maybe she's from Cape Girardeau too?? The late Jim Tyack is up there again. He's a really fine poet. And we put Bob McNamara up there to give him a plug for his Mind Gorrilla reading. Anyway, any feedback? Any thoughts? Don't worry about laying into my poem. At best I'll learn something about writing. At worst, I'll end my life with a blunderbuss.

The Cafe Is Open for Business

So the editors of asininepoetry.com and I figure we need a place for us, and for asinine poets and fans, too, to come hang out, drop notes, say hi, comment critically or hysterically or nonsensically on the week's poems or podcasts, fight, duel, tango, bitch about the T-shirts, whatever, you know, interact, a place off the site, because for us, while asininepoetry.com is a place of fun and art and worship, we wanted something more on the downlow, more casual, more back alley. See what I'm saying? Anyway, we're hoping to all stop by and make comments, and we hope that poets and fans of the site come by often as well. And we're hoping new people trip across this blog and become asinine fans and poets.

As one of the main editors of the site, I've been assigned to maintain this blog, and I wanted to call it Rick's Cafe Asinine, but maybe I'll save that for when I open up a poetry reading store that happens to serve coffee in the back. People will have to sign up for lattes.