Letter from the Editor
Readers, writers, artisans of the broken line, this issue
introduces a new occasional feature: Black
Tie: Formal Affair, which will survey poems in traditional form
that maintain their contemporariness and (that word-in-miniature so
rarely trusted to stand alone) vim.
He who thinks he doesn’t like pantoums should read Anne
Silver’s. And so should She who.
Then—to ascend for a moment the scale of
importance—this issue re-introduces our former managing editor,
now more managerial than ever and our new GMBGW (in this acronym,
remember, the the is silent—indeed, speechless), Larry
Assistant Editor Liz Gonzalez, poet of earth and air, fire and good one-pot meals,
water—both icy and cool—offers a new In
Review. One of the L.A. literary monde’s sharpest
thinkers penned, keyboarded, this one, Catherine Daly.
Elsewhere in these imaginary Web
realm pages, Denis Mair, The Quiet
Man, tells of a misunderstanding involving a type of woman once
termed mad, then hysterical, then psychotic, then
dysfunctional, but who nowadays we’d recognize as just another
person on the usual panoply of medications.
The Reader must proceed through a good deal of quietness,
though, before coming to that part. And amid the blathering going on
the world over, don’t we need bit of quiet?
Terrific poems by John Allman and
William Trowbridge bolster my discussion of “edge” and what
it is we think we mean when we throw that word around as if we know
what the hell we’re talking about.
Visual Cues continues to blur slightly,
pleasingly, the line between two arts. Jackie Tchakalian kindly lent
Speechless a painting to accompany her poem.
Those prone to anxiety, those wary of what’s next, may
now be comforted. Sneak
Previews heralds a lush unfolding of poems from Sholeh Wolpé
and Deborah Landau—books coming soon.
Suddenly the future looks good, or at least better.
Finally, is there anywhere else suspended in the Web realm
a thing where poet professors reveal to the lay public select
aspects of the mysterious workshop process? I think not.
For this issue Charles Harper
Webb, he-who-knows-his-own-mind, describes his workshop method
and the aim behind it, with student poems that benefit from his
And there’s more, so much more.
in fact, I lie. That’s
all there is.