Category: Poetry

Accessing Reality

October 4, 2019  |  MFA, Poetry, Writing

A Masters in the Fine Arts is not a one-way ticket to an illustrious career path of lucrative success. No one is of the illusion that we write for the money. For most of us, we write because we have to. We have no other choice but to write. It is a pressing need.  Though […]

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The New Doubt

Doubt too must be the work of God if God exists, and if God does not, God must be the work of Doubt —Bob Hicok, “My Faith-Based Initiative” The totality of existing states of affairs is the world. The totality of existing states of affairs also determines which states of affairs do not exist. —Ludwig […]

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One Writer Among 12,000 at AWP

Many AWP attendees complain of the exhaustion they feel after attending back-to-back panels, trying to schedule coffee and meals with old friends and new ones, and staying out late at offsite events. Having just returned from Seattle, I can say that I am not exhausted, but in fact, elated. A few of the panels I […]

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Obscurity, Clarity, & Trying to Mean

November 12, 2013  |  Poetry, Teaching, Uncategorized, Writing

I have a Billy Collins face. This is not at all to say that I resemble former U. S. poet laureate Billy Collins; what I mean is, there is an expression that I make whenever Billy Collins is brought up in conversation in my vicinity, whenever I feel compelled to respond to that situation honestly […]

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Collaborations: Matthew Cooperman and Aby Kaupang Cooperman read at the UCA

  “Into this wild Abyss / the womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave.”  Matthew Cooperman prefaces his latest collection, Imago for the Fallen World, with this quote from Milton. As evident in this textual mosaic in collaboration with the artist Marius Lehene, Matthew is socially conscious and exhilarating poet writing with urgency and force. […]

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Shapeshift: An Annotation

April 24, 2013  |  Annotations, MFA, Poetry, Uncategorized

Bitsui, Sherwin.  Shapeshift.  Tuscon: University of Arizona Press, 2003.  Print. I came back to Shapeshift in an elementally coincidental kind of way; I first had a copy bought for me by a professor of (post)colonial lit, Vermonja Alston, at a reading Bitsui gave, when I was a poor undergrad.  Somewhere I gave it away or […]

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