|
|
|
|
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
Amy King Antidotes for an Alibi BlazeVox Books ISBN 0-9759227-5-0 2005
These poems read to me like poetry versions of flash fiction. Now, I like flash fiction very much, but I like the more fabulistic kind. Amy King is writing the fabulistic kind of flash fiction -- I want to say, "the good kind" -- in poetry. What does this mean? Well, when lineated, the line breaks in the poems point to the jumps in the narrative. When not, the poems still take the same little leaps that poems take. I guess I'm struggling with the new sentence this morning. I am not seeing "torsion" as I understand it, nor am I looking for it -- I am just saying that these poems have little leaps in them that flash fiction of a similar type does not. For example, this poem, "Evening In," is a story of screening a particular kind of call:
Evening In
Mother phoned the premature death of father to me. A machine shuffled her words. I played back the story of my childhood and grieved.
Now, I would probably end the stanza here, or title it something different. In any case, the evening in begins with a message in a machine. I would think flash fiction might use "the machine" and not jump so quickly to "story of my childhood."
After dinner, blocks of toddler teak wood fell, then floated, mistaken for cork. Household acts boiled over Aunt Max's black pot rim where we succumbed to the likelihood of work. We were all enchanted when the little kettle dripped and wrote proverbs to complete our pact with amazing accents. Dessert hints wafted past raised cups of homeground coffee, whiskey-tinted, under the blue haze of living room light.
In this second part of the poem, the progression is chronological. After dinner, some french press coffee and dessert. I don't think "household acts" and "dessert hints" would be in flash fiction. They are too mysterious. Interestingly, the references to fables and fiction continue, in "enchanted," "writing," "proverbs," "pact, " and "accents." The line break after "dripped" makes it unclear whether the kettle (presumably whistling) is writing or that "we" who are enchanted are writing. But overall, a little story of a poem, which is recognisably a poem, not fiction.
In the next-previous prose poem, "Land into Sea," the jumps are between sentences -- I don't see each sentence doing as much heavy lifting as in a poem, and I see bigger jumps between the sentences. I also see bigger jumps -- associative ones -- than in fabulistic flash fiction. It has the logic of some poems where the themes are established, play together a while, and then reach a conclusion. We start with a relatively concrete example, a fabulistic but also realistic fear:
On the car-hugging road, I am shocked that one day I fall asleep and the stray dog could die.
Not the road is hugging the car, not the car the road (as car commercials would have -- did you know most city car commercials are filmed in downtown LA?). In any case, car, road, sleep, dog, death. Very clean and neat. Then, out of the shrubbery at the side of the road -- a crowd.
These orders of truth awaken self defense, so urge the crowd, "Betray yourselves." Every fugitive deserves retreat at depths the bathysphere can't reach.
Who is the fugitive? The narrator? The dog. The dog and the narrator. The narrator is more likely to fall asleep and die than fall asleep and kill a dog. I.e., life is fugitive. So you see, by figuring out the difference between the first sentnce and the second sentence, you've got poetry, because flash fiction tends to spell this sort of stuff out, not point all sorts of different directions. But, note, this is sentences which are addressing different people and having different characters, not necessarily "torque-ing" as I understand it.
Since lame-o short reviews usually mention the title, I'll say -- I like this title and the way is points to the flash fiction in poetry theme. For what is an alibi, but a very specific sort of potentially verifiable narrative. And what is an antidote to that, but the fabulistic.
http://cadaly.blog spot.com/2004/12/because-i-have-two-reviews-due-and.html


What can I do to keep this world in its orbital spin? I gave up trying to win the hearts of the many-. Throw the meat-balls against the wall, stop, stop!! Trying to... Read More
It was not me as I am now. It was not me as I was then. It was then when God was truly in me. When God was in me, I was a... Read More
There I sat, ninety-five degree weatherOutside; the bookstore caf?, was cool.An Old Timer stood by me, explaining:"There were two-hundred of us on the Island,Near North Korea, back in '52-We guarded 16,000-prisners?"All of a... Read More
Ed Gallagher Dec. 11, 1907 - Sept. 5, 2004This poem was written for Ed Gallagher, a good friend and neighbour on the day his wife called me to let me know that he... Read More
Real Power.One Tsunami, and all our armies, Seem belittled by their wars, What Animals fled, and tribesmen read, Finally Arrives with crushing roar, Wholesale slaughter, purely by water, Makes us seem an irrelevance,... Read More
Have you ever sat there staring at the paper, ready to write, but unsure where to begin? Want a solution that will overcome even the worst writer's block? Anyone can start writing poetry... Read More
Bells for Belphegor!...Where immortal veils never meet Belphegor, Arch devil speaks: In vagaries form, With signs and signatures not yet born-; The Tagaririm, order of the demon: They come to meet, the King... Read More
Four Poems: Katrina's PathwayHarvest of Apoplectic Horses ((Dedicated to: Katrina)) crisis)It has happened before: Nearby and afar, Where the four-horses of Apocalypse With their flaming nostrils Breathed in the fury of the winds... Read More
I cannot bear to think of when you will be gone.I do not understand how I will get along.Your love has been my resting place, the place that I would go, no matter... Read More
I will never think twice nor will I roll the dice When it comes to my life I will take my Grannio's adviceYou play the hand you're dealt when it comes to who... Read More
So many looked to you for inspiration,Unlikely hero for the wheelchair nation.Proudly you fought and proudly you believed,Everyone loved you Christopher Reeve.Readily it seemed you accepted your fate,Man you are super..man you are... Read More
Burning Autumn Leaves [1950s in St. Paul, Minnesota]My long steel pointed rake punctured And twisted through tons of autumn leaves (back in the '50s); And there's a hill yet, I didn't rake,... Read More
Is poetry too complicated for the average reader? Is it too cryptic, scholarly? If you ask a large group of average people what they like or don't like about poetry, you'll get a... Read More
On through the darkness she searches the bones Seeking the hand of her love; Deep in the stillness, the maid searches on, Petitioning help from above. Onward she gropes through the flesh and... Read More
When I am climbing up, you are stepping down. When I wear a smile, you wear a frown. When I am very happy, you are feeling sad. When I am doing well, you... Read More
Learn about love by reading poetry by a long dead poet named Rumi. No need to look for ancient texts hidden in caves...Search the Net.In this modern age of technology, busy lifestyles, and... Read More
English VersionThe Merchant of Copan [480 AD]Advance: The ballgame at the Honduras courtyard in Copan, the year was 480 AD, Copan's 3rd ruler, Mat Head, whom succeeded Quetzal Macaw, whom was the founder... Read More
If you are serious about seeing your work published by reputable publishers, there are a few points you should consider. Firstly and most obviously, you need to determine if you have poetry worth... Read More
AFRICA (to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africa africa of the black soul the soul of an ancient culture the culture of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa... Read More
English VersionA bunch of us guys in the hutIn ?Nam Were playing cards, singing songs; In a solo-room, back of the hut Lay mad-dog, Sergeant Rook;And watching from a distance Was his sidekick,... Read More
Ah! Leave the gold, wealth and landSays the Inca King?; In Spain, they leave the bustling streets, For sail to Peruvian shores;The murmur of the gold is sweet,It glows and glistens like the... Read More
To many non-specialists of literature, poetry is deeply unsatisfying. There are several reasons for this, but two in particular come to mind. The first is that most poetry is overly descriptive, leaving little... Read More
Storm Rising along the Lima Coast [Summer of 2002]?wind was blowing furiously It never left for a moment Bursts of fury I found it difficult to keep My feet placed, thus, I... Read More
Take some time to stop and look at nature. Pick up a rock or two and think about where it might have started out and what it might have gone through to end... Read More
Mother's Day Poetry,I'm Sorry Mom!I'm sorry for the troubles And the worries I brought you. I'm sorry for my mistakes, I didn't mean to make you blue.When I was young and... Read More
1)dying in the bar [sluggishly]yet, I would crawl too upto the bar, it was everything, the dampness the carved wood the zoned-out-ness in my head dreaming; it was better than death? then I... Read More
House of the Goblin [Part Two of Three]Here is where, where the air is stillAnd the mountains shadows disappear! Here is where, unnumbered spirits dwellWhere harp and memory expire?Where the rainbow-leaps, from itsStoreroom-keep,... Read More
English VersionAnd the Death God said: "Let it rise to its glory in the Rio Valley-for a season; then let it be gone, we shall call it Copan?"Prologue: Empires come and go, liken... Read More
How wonderfully sweet to be a dweller dwelling on the road of goodbye. Bittersweet tears fall as I think of all the places I'll never see, all the... Read More
Storm Rising along the Lima Coast [Summer of 2002]?wind was blowing furiously It never left for a moment Bursts of fury I found it difficult to keep My feet placed, thus, I... Read More
In the quiet of the arctic night- In its deep northern skies, Dim are the lights, in its coldEvening frost?! Even the stars of the arctic Seem silently stone frozen!Here, here is where... Read More
Five Poems from Home1) Remembering: Dorothy Parker [Dedicated to the 1920s Poetess]Let it be said, Dorothy Parker lies dead, cremated to ash and poetry; thus, she died at the ripe old age... Read More
Contract of DeathI heard today, the preacher say: "Daniel has warned us long ago, Of the trials and tribulations we Are now facing, with our foes?"He says the 'Antichrist' was now In Europe... Read More
Iquitos & the Amazon Part OneIt was December 2, l959, I was sitting on a small prop-plane leaving Iquitos, Peru for a trip down the Amazon toward the opening, the mouth of the... Read More
Thank youDedicated to soldiers and their loved onesFor those who have laid in fox holes,carried guns,marched for hours.For those who have had cold sleepless nights,endless days of discomfort.For those who have endured the... Read More
YOU MIGHT THINK I AM STRONGI THINK YOU GOT IT WRONGI LIVE LIFE DAY TO DAYHOPING IT WILL GO MY WAYI HAVE MY FRIENDS AND MY FOOD PLANMY THERAPIST AND MY THOUGHTSMY EXERCISE... Read More
FIND the MAGICFind the Magic As you release old bondage Come out of hiding And see the starsFind the Magic As you expose the pain Let the tears flow And find beauty in... Read More
AFRICA (to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africa africa of the black soul the soul of an ancient culture the culture of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa... Read More
Growing hurts sometimes; saying goodbye to friends, to things you've known and done to things you wanted to do. Growing heals sometimes the shattered... Read More
Black Blood, in Jeremiah's Vines [A Dream Poem]And I heard the crackling of wood, and I noticed the Lord God had made men of wood, and fire came from his mouth.Then the wind... Read More
Writing innovative poetry, the kind of poetry that reputable literary journals publish, entails knowing exactly what each word of a poem does to the reader. A good poem should be evocative, skillful, and... Read More
Writing poetry is an art, a way of expression, finding meaning in few words. A melody of passion flowing out onto the pages, words that flow into each other and yet express the... Read More
Shakespeare's sonnets require time and effort to appreciate. Understanding the numerous meanings of the lines, the crisply made references, the brilliance of the images, and the complexity of the sound, rhythm and structure... Read More
Blind DesignsBorn today, gone tomorrow Like a butterfly with no stomach Born n the morning, dead by night Oh-let me whisper Oh-let me cry What man has not learned? What man will not... Read More
Do you ever stare at the paper, waiting for poetic inspiration? Well, you can stop waiting and start using systematic techniques for creating poetry. If it seems too mechanical or artificial at first,... Read More
The concept of brief encounters, even romantic encounters, with a stranger recurs often in the verses of Walt Whitman.Take, for example, these lines from one of the inscriptions that Whitman wrote to his... Read More
In the midst of darkness, there is light. In the midst of evil, there is virtue. In the midst of war, there is peace. In the midst of agony, there is ecstasy.In... Read More
Have you ever experienced infatuation with someone you know is not a good match for you? Or how about an interesting relationship that roots itself deep in your memory... Here's my double take... Read More
There once lived an old man and his goodwife On the edge of the thick of the woods; They lived in an old run-down shack For forty-years and some. The old man hunted... Read More
Ole Bulky JeepsThrough late summer's heat These bulky shaped jeeps Ride by house and farm City and barn-Hungry for Spring-again, hoping to avoid The Slipping and sliding Of winter's ice and wind?[s]Their weighty... Read More
I get up in the morningAnd want to stay in bedOh, so nice and warmLike fresh from the oven bread.My day is oh so busyI wish that I could stayIn the quiet of... Read More
Daybreak at Pikes Creek [Summer of 2005]Daybreak by Lake Superior Rising out of the woods like: A swamp mist I'm waiting for breakfast(at the B&B) I pace the grounds The scent of green... Read More
1.Night in Jamaica [Peruvianism: 1810]It was a rainy night they say When don Simon Bolivar Slept in the arms of beautiful -Luisa Crober (of Jamaica); thus an Assassin missed his mark When... Read More
Twilight, was now beginning. As forthe sun, it was down-down over the Mantaro Valley of Peru. The softness of the Valley's mist, covered everything; from the Andes to the Valley?and through(then I noticed)?the... Read More
Truth is stranger than fiction according to many people who have seen what happens around me and to them, on many occasions. Sometimes I have had others affect me in the same way.... Read More
Kamalakanta was born in Burdwan India in the late 18th Century. From an early age he expressed an interest in spirituality and later in life Kamalakanta received initiation into Tantric Yoga from a... Read More
Is poetry too complicated for the average reader? Is it too cryptic, scholarly? If you ask a large group of average people what they like or don't like about poetry, you'll get a... Read More
When your life becomes unbearable And the light of promise ceases to glow, When all your dreams and aspirations Lie dormant on ambition's death row.When you feel that all is hopeless,... Read More
| GOOGLE AD |
Poetry Poetry |