Welcome! Click here to visit Iowa Bird of Mouth, a crowd-sourced poem honoring twelve Iowa birds. With support from the Iowa Arts Council and the National Endowment for the Arts, the project ran from September 2016 through August 2017. Over 750 people from all over the world contributed their words to the project. My essay on the process of creating and executing IBOM appeared in the 2018 June/July edition of American Poetry Review. CONTACT.
Forget espresso! Tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. Iowa time, rise and shine and get some kicka$$ poetry at Poetry Extension's international online reading series, with Salena Godden, Doireann Ní Ghríofa, Wayne Holloway-Smith, Sarah Howe, Kathryn Maris, Andrew McMillan and me!
http://www.thepoetryextension.com/
Iowa Bird of Mouth is open for submissions (two days early, but what the heck?)! written in any style—from rhyming, metered verse, to free-flowing prose, to an actual memory—or even just a one-word thought.
"Crow-d sourced!"
We seek the words and stories of bird lovers, bird watchers, writers, artists, musicians, teachers, students, scientists, non-profits, federal and state organizations, environmental stewards, and nature lovers from around the world—regardless of age, education, publication history, location or writing style. This is open source-text, for use in non-commercial projects. Lay some bird-related poetry on us, peeps!
Dana Levin, Matthew Zapruder, Ada Limón, Robert Haas, Danez Smith, Tess Taylor, Jane Hirschfeld, Bob Hicok etc et al all came out for a heckuva weenie roast! Thanks for this, Dean Rader!
Thanks for thinking of me, Elias!
Viva la Towed!
From Days of Shame and Failure
THE KILLER
Stella had been chasing that rabbit for weeks.
While wet nose deep in the lilies, she’d miss
its streak across the lawn, its slip into a skinny
woodpile nook just wide enough to scotch
a frantic paw. She must’ve thought the flickering
thing magic. “It darts into the bush and disappears!”
And so all the more other to her—its white tail, a
wink, a “so long, dummy!”—its siren otherness
setting her fur on end like lightning. Tirelessly
she worked the corners, fluffed the undergrowth,
until finally she laid down with that flash, draped
one leg across the broken back and licked it
head to toe, tasting all it still was, its open black
eye steering towards some other she’d erased
"While the recording is very clear and of great quality, unfortunately, once or twice what sounds like an animal (a bird perhaps?) makes a squawking noise in the background while you're reading."
Hm. I wonder what that could be.
Weh-hell! NYC-ARTS covers my Pen and Brush reading from June with Laura Sims and Carey McHugh! I'm in it, reading a poem called "Drones." Pen and Brush is such a great series. Thanks again, Kate Angus, for inviting me!
