Sinister: The late, late Monday poem, plus: A LIST FANZINE!!!

[poetryplace2]

Ok, ok, ok.... I've been ill y'know. But I go away for three days and I
don't expect someone to try to steal my delightful sobriquet! I refer, of
course, to mr la-de-dah so-called
"essex-I'm-a-journalist-actually-dontachaknow-dog5", who wrote, in reply to
sir sparkly orange:

>>who is this stephen trousers of whom you speak?

Why I oughtta...... listen "pal", i was trousers when you were in short
pants, so go find your own nom-de-net. As a card-carrying pop
deconstructionist, I'm all in favour of the concept of the free-floating
signifier, but this is one act of bricolage too far. So take your
teletextuality elsewhere, you loathsome poltroon!

(does this count as flame? even if put a big snakey sarcasm symbol here?
~~~)

Ummm, where was I? Oh somone was mentioning setting up a spin-off website
for listees contributions (sorry I can't remember who, I've just waded
through 150 emails), which reminded me... various people have kicked around
the idea of setting up a list fanzine, and I've decided to take the plunge.
It would be nice to have something ready to commemorate all the picnics at
the beginning of May, and we could also distribute them at the Blue Soda
Social, a club a few of us are setting up in London. So if anyone fancies
contributing reviews, interviews, features, ink polaroids, WHATEVER (or if
you just have a query).... email me privately (poetryplace2 at easynet.co.uk).
They don't have to be about B&S... in fact it'll probably be more
interesting if there's a broad range of subjects: not just pop, but books,
films, plays, comics.... hell, even poems! It'd be nice to have a few
illustrations, so if anyone's handy with a pencil....We'll have to get our
skates on though, so the deadline is April 15th. And no, it's not gonna be
called Trouser Press because even my egomania has some limits, (and there's
already a US zine by that name). I think Sinister sounds a bit gothy.... at
the moment I like "brouhaha" simply because it's a nice word, but if anyone
has any better suggestions, well drop me a line. Avanti!

At last: the late late Monday poem...

Stephen Dobyns is another of these ker-razy american poets who are so
fashionable at the moment. I spent the better part of this week in bed with
the flu reading his selected poems "Velocities", published by Bloodaxe, and
it brought some truth to the cliche that there is nothing so enjoyable as a
minor illness. This poem is fairly self-explanatory.

Stephen Dobyns
Oatmeal Deluxe

This morning, because the snow swirled deep
around my house, I made oatmeal for breakfast.
At first it was runny so I added more oatmeal,
then it grew too thick so I added water.
Soon I had a lot of oatmeal. The radio
was playing Spanish music and I became
passionate: soon I had four pots of oatmeal.
I put them aside and started a new batch.
Soon I had eight pots. When the oatmeal cooled,
I began to roll it with my hands, making
small shapes: pigs and souvenir ashtrays. Then
I made a foot, then another, then a leg. Soon
I'd made a woman out of oatmeal with freckles
and a cute nose and hair made from brown sugar
and naked except for a necklace of raisins.
She was five feet long and when she grew harder
I could move her arms and legs without them
falling off. But I didn't touch her much -
she lay on the table - sometimes I'd touch her
with a spoon, sometimes I'd lick her in places
it wouldn't show. She looks like you, although
your hair is darker, but the smile is like yours,
and the eyes, although hers are closed. You say:
But what has this to do with me? And I should say:
I want to make more women out of Cream of Wheat.
But enough of such fantasy. You ask me
why I don't love love you, why you can't
live with me. What can I tell you? If I
can make a woman out of oatmeal, my friend,
what trouble could I make for you, a woman?

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Stevie Trousers
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

the Poetry Society website: http://www.poetrysoc.com


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