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Saturday, July 18, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Introducing new editors: Lily Brown & Claire Becker!
Dear readers,
Happy summer. I'd like to share some news with you: I'm delighted to announce that two new editors, the wonderful poets Lily Brown & Claire Becker, yes: Claire Becker & Lily Brown, will now conduct your weekly encounters with RealPoetik. It's been an honor sending poems your way for three years (some of them yours!), & reading your comments and submissions. I send hugs and take a bow. I hope you'll keep in touch: write to me at anabobo@gmail.com, visit me at www.nightcommute.org, and look for my book due out from Tarpaulin Sky Press in the fall. I'll be reading on with you, so let's see what Lily & Claire have in store for us:
[exit Ana Bozicevic]
[enter Lily Brown & Claire Becker]:
We're excited to be taking over editorial duties at RealPoetik and look forward to building on the work Ana and previous editors have done. The poems published as emails in RealPoetik are able to go virtually anywhere. They can be read on your phone on the train, aloud to your dog, or on a braille display; they can be printed out and scribbled on, deleted, or replied to. Through email and the RealPoetik blog, we will bring you poems straight from the physical world, where real-live poetry communities won’t be superseded anytime soon. We're dedicated to publishing poems that are engaging, challenging, and aesthetically diverse. We look forward to this new endeavor and would love to hear from you at any time!
Lily & Claire
About the Editors:
Lily Brown holds an MFA from Saint Mary's College of California. Her first book, Rust or Go Missing, is forthcoming from Cleveland State University Poetry Center. She lives in Chicago and in Athens, where she is a Ph.D. student at The University of Georgia.
Claire Becker lives in Oakland and teaches high school at the California School for the Blind. She is the author of the chapbooks Untoward, from Lame House Press, and Get You, from Duration Press. She holds an MFA from Saint Mary's College of California and an Education Specialist Instruction Credential from the California Commission on Teacher Credentialing. Her first book, Where We Think it Should Go, is forthcoming from Octopus Books.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Rest in peace, Sal Salasin
Dear readers of RP, and friends of Sal Salasin,
I'd like to share with you a note from Elisa Salasin, niece of Sal, the founding editor of RealPoetik. Sal passed away yesterday. Please leave your notes for Sal's family in the comment field. And we'll give the last word to Sal.
Your interim editor,
Ana
Dear Friends of Sal Salasin,
I'm writing to let you all know that my uncle Robert, otherwise known as Sal and Roberto and Uncle Bob, passed away this evening. He was the fighting spirit that you all knew and loved until close to the end, not willing to give in to death unless there were good writers involved.
It was Shakespeare that carried him over. At one point in the afternoon Sal asked when Shakespeare would be arriving. I held his hand and said that Shakespeare was on his way. He asked if Shakespeare would be taking him upstairs. I said that yes, Shakespeare was coming to take him upstairs, and once there they’d meet up with Neruda and Cervantes and Lorca, and they’d talk about poetry together. I told him there were lots of un-unionized workers that needed to be organized, and lots of poets waiting for him in heaven, and that Shakespeare would be arriving very soon to guide him there. Sal began repeating, “Shakespeare is coming... Shakespeare is coming. He’s coming soon...” His body untensed, and he fell into a quiet sleep. I sat with him for awhile, holding my hand over his heart, whispering that Shakespeare would be there before too long, that we all love him, but that he was free to go.
It was the most peaceful sleep I’d seen in days, so I left him in the care of his continuous-care nurse, an incredibly gentle & perceptive Pakistani man named Erfan. Before I returned Sal’s spirit was gone. He had woken up briefly, and Erfan held him as his took his last breaths. Shakespeare arrived to escort him upstairs.
Sal requested that his ashes be scattered off of the Staten Island Ferry. I will be in touch when arrangements are made for this to happen. However, in the mean time please know that I read each and every one of the messages and poems that were sent to him by all of you. Even in his final days they never failed to make him smile, and he was truly amazed every time I'd bring in a new pile. I believe they brought a measure of completion to his life that might not otherwise have been possible. Thank you.
With love,
Elisa Salasin
(and the rest of our family)
And am pleased to inhabit the earth with this species. Goodbye and God bless you all. More of the evil work of Denise and her evil twin Denise, bleeding through my dreams. Man is the only animal that builds jails. He can also eat peanuts and chew tobacco. Let's go back to the phones where we'll discuss idempotent transactions in just a moment. Well, yes, I'm sorry I did the best I could which was obviously inadequate.
Fate and too many painkillers.
Recently I had the pleasure of driving alone in an American car on American roads listening to American radio from Perth Amboy to Seattle. And this had its rewards although it didn't do the planet any good.
And if it makes you feel any better, I didn't use my tongue. I'm also extremely good at removing the lint after each use and believe I should get some credit for that. "By the light of a thousand suns, I am become death." I'd sympathize but all in all, I'd rather talk about me. Just get my butt back safe from the K-Mart and I'm yours forever.Sal Salasin, July 24, 1995
Thursday, January 3, 2008
RealPoetik Reading at Bowery Poetry Club!!!!!
A short note to remind you that Sal Salasin (Executive Editor), Mike Topp (former Managing Editor) and Hal Sirowitz (frequent contributor) will be reading at
THE BOWERY POETRY CLUB
308 BOWERY
NEW YORK CITY 10012
SUNDAY JANUARY 27TH 4-6 PM
212.614.0505
betw. Bleecker & Houston, across from CBGB’s
F or V to 2nd Ave / 6 to Bleecker St.
Sal's note: I chose Mike and Hal to read with not only because they're excellent poets, but also among the very few who are actually entertaining, if you follow. So this should be a really good time for all. AND AN OPPORTUNITY FOR YOU TO COME OVER AND INTRODUCE YOURSELVES!!!!!
Hope to see you there!!!!
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Winner of the RealPoetik Best Paris Hilton Poem Contest
AND THE WINNER IS…….!!!!!!
Totally arbitrary!! It was difficult to decide! Really!! All the pieces seemed pretty good and/or funny to me and ultimately, my choice was relatively arbitrary. Not that one’s choice of any lit over another isn’t ultimately arbitrary of course.
I note all the entries, visible on the blog (http://realpoetikblog.blogspot.com/) by the way, were real heavy in their applications of registered trade marks and pop culture icons. I have no idea why Paris Hilton should be so universally associated with marketing and schlock culture, but there you have it. The other interesting thing was an apparent inability of RealPoetikers to distinguish between Paris Hilton, Lindsey Lohan and Britney Spears. And, uh, Nicole Richie. I am so sure they are different people!! Although I couldn’t for the life of me tell you how to tell. Still……
But I had to chose one and so I chose Sam Starkweather’s, probably because it used the verb “tivoed” and the proper name “Beyonce.” I shall name my first daughter, Beyonce, I swear. AND he took the time and trouble to trick it all out with John Berryman’s name (dragged John Berryman’s name through the mud, some would say) and some such bullshit as “transcontemporation as a process” which I thought was way cool. OK. Here it is:
Sonnet # 114
—a transcontemporation of John Berryman
You cum Paris Hilton-haired through the J. Lo air
bangin' on my split-level mobile-home screen-window
and you be cummin' for like ever, up, down
straight true through my reality show where
I'm pittin'-out like an unused desktop icon: wazz up,—
you be da body of the email, my micro-chip's on da fritz
so I found when grandma got 86'ed, dial-up speed
and I took Jet Blue down dirty South to da cremation
jumping with in-laws, Beyonce ring-tone revealed her last
text-message, icon still on screen, much less replied: Lewinskied
spin-doctored me so effectively I turned off the TV & cringed
in my entertainment center for all the re-runs
I never TiVoed and never again dazzle coworkers at water coolers,
a bitch to your beautiful ability to obsessively compulse.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
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