Joanna Newsom, “On A Good Day” from Letterman, 2010.
Ever wanted to read nine poems about Lana Del Rey songs? You’re in luck, because I wrote nine and they’re here at boringrain.com.
Many thanks to Nitsuh for helping me with this.
LOVE LIKE WIND
There is infinite heat
The more people you trap in one blanket the more heat there can be
It’s important to gather as many people around you as you can
The nubby surface of this blanket smells like body hair
It’s sort of the color of my skin so I can get in it
And feel basically like a droopy version of me
People like it when you are sexy and fun
Oh yeah things are getting interesting
We are alone
Now let’s glamp like it
Popsickle, two-day Brooklyn literary arts festival kicked off at Forgotten Works Studio in DUMBO on Saturday afternoon. Poetry and prose readers sponsored by the city’s reading series and literary journals began at 1 p.m. to a crowded, sauna-like reading space.
omg so today 1 of my favorite poets & people trisha low posted a link to something so INCREDIBLE !!! the text of the poem “love song” which i had otherwise never seen before & thought was unppublished. it appears in tom raworth’s infolio, a publication recently archived on jacket2 through the continued incredible efforts of danny snelson & his staff. much love to everybody for making my day!
I look wicked sleepy but here I am reading Sommer Browning’s poem “How long does it take to get to a funeral?” from her book Backup Singers, which is out now.
I don’t mind being adrift for a while, but I don’t read poetry strictly for the experience of becoming unmoored.
—John Darnielle on reading poetry in general, and on reading Berryman specifically, over at FSG.
In the clearing I stand,
a boxer! Putting all your shit
in boxes, dragging the boxes
to this stupid clearing.
—excerpt from “live rust” by michael robbins, over at LARB for national poetry month
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Birds of Lace is truly heroic; this needs to be funded.
In (further) celebration of Live Through This' 20th anniversary, a bonus track: the real “Rock Star,” replaced at the very last minute by “Olympia” because of certain lyrics about Nirvana. This has always been one of my favorite Hole songs. It's one of the most honest, unadorned lyrics Courtney Love has ever written, free of the flowers and milk and bodily fluids and pageant queens that ruled the rest of the album, seething with sarcasm about the jealousy-disguised-as-principled-superiority successful artists have to absorb from their less successful counterparts. Thematically, that puts it very much in line with the rest of the album, although its shiny, jangly, California guitars (also sarcastic, to my ears) make it a bridge to Celebrity Skin. Listening to it again this week, it’s the big sigh — audible for a reason, obviously — Love lets out before launching into the Nirvana verse that gets me. Like she knows she’s getting herself into trouble, saying something she shouldn’t, but she’s just got to unburden herself anyway.
"Barrel of laughs, Nirvana" is amazing. Also, "We are not who we fuck" — twenty years later, she’s still not free from this.