Yo, this is a somewhat esoteric request, but: do any of you know of any periodicals that a/ publish poetry about queer and trans stuff; b/ (poetry that is actually good); c/ don’t have overwhelmingly lousy politics?
(whoa I just found out I have a tag called “i care about poetry so hard!!!” — I should use that more often)
I feel like they should exist and like I want to look at them (I generally prefer reading lots of people’s work in a lump to, say, zines by one single author), but Google is not helping me?
I have lived in this city
and all that time
I have dropped things.
letters from women
in Santa Fe, N.M.,
the keys to my house,
And all this time,
the people of this
city, have pointed
to me, and said,
“Hey!” “Sir!” “You!
You dropped something!”
and then I’ve picked it up.
You have watched
over me all these
and I’ve waited till
now to thank you.
Country house porn
Cowper wrote a poem in praise of halibut, or himself, concluding:
Thy lot thy brethren of the slimey fin
Would envy, could they know that thou wast doomed
To feed a bard and to be prais’d in verse.
Observed critic Ivor Brown over a century later: “The notion of fish pining to become the raw material of indifferent, or even of the best, poetry and to serve as the sustenance of human authorship is one which is beyond comment.”
(from British Literary Anecdotes, Robert Hendrickson. man I love anecdote books.)
Levinas says “Magic, recognized everywhere as the devil’s part, enjoys an incomprehensible tolerance in poetry.” As far as I can tell, he’s pretty serious about believing this, but he ends up making both magic and poetry sound really cool.
This last part is the oddest to me; I was sort of joking about most of the others, but in the poetry I read at my job, nobody ever talks about the personalities of their boyfriends or girlfriends in any interesting detail. It’s always “I love him/her so much” or maybe a “He tells me I’m pretty” or something. “She’s got nice eyes.”
It’s almost never anything like, “I was really impressed/fascinated/touched by this person’s (room decor / saxophone improv / obvious intellectual genius / massive afro / cooking prowess).”
I would read the shit out of a love poem like that. I mean I might not publish it but I’d read the shit out of it before I threw it away.