Showing posts with label Aleathia Drehmer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aleathia Drehmer. Show all posts

4/4/13


LETTER OF MARQUE: ARTICLE THE FORTIETH

A Quiet Learning Curve | Aleathia Drehmer & Dan Provost



Poetry
56 pages
5 ¼” x 8 ¼” perfect-bound trade paperback
ISBN: 978-1-59948-269-9
First Edition
Main Street Rag Publishing Company
Rank Stranger Press
Mount Olive, NC, USA
Available here
$10, plus shipping

This book is split into two sections, one for Aleathia Drehmer and one for Dan Provost. They don't have poems written together here, they are just sharing a cover and binding. So let's tackle Ms. Drehmer first.

Drehmer covers the world of love and loss, domestic life and hardships, the tragedy of divorce in the act of dividing belongings

I fold the laundry
in between loads of dishes
as you make lists in the air
ticking off items collected over the years.

You place them in neat piles,
short and haphazard,
realizing most everything
is mine by default.

[ ... ]

You notice the clock given to us
at our wedding and how it stopped
telling proper time and mention
the Swedish Love Knot
that unraveled years ago.

[ ... ] (from “Whispers Something about Irony”),

motherhood

[ ... ]
The door clicks open and my progeny

eases in to deliver rapid fire cartoon fantasies
about the time she was a cat trainer
living in the circus and didn't I remember that?
Or was I just too old to imagine it?  (from “Sparking the Fire”),

growing older (yet wiser)

[ ... ]

We are the pain
creeping into joints without remorse,
   the pulling of muscles flexed
beyond intension, the subtle tightening
a warning to us all.

[ ... ] (from “Hollow”),

and a recurring theme of love, loss, departure, and human qualities in relation to science and math

[ ... ]

We dance back and forth
until you and I are nothing
more than a closed system
that finds the tiny existence
of our relationship isolated
and unchanged — a perpetual
                                      momentum.

Never falling backward,
never moving forward. (from “(critical) mass”).

Drehmer writes on reflections of love found and lost, emptiness felt with an elephant's weight, and the childish laughter that fills otherwise quiet spaces. And she writes of these things with intelligence, refreshing personal openness, and the experience of someone who's been there.

Dan Provost, meanwhile, is nearly the opposite. He is not quiet and does not reside in his pain or place quietly. Yet, he still speaks of tragedies and isolation with personal experience. He ventures into less-domestic arenas with his blunt discussions of politics, gun ownership/violence, anarchy, war, death

Wrong Charles,
Death,
Man is never ready for ...
Simple things might send him to the madhouse,
But you can leave eventually,
[ ... ]
Death, there is no turning back ...
[ ... ] (from “Wrong Charlie”),

even Indian affairs

[ ... ]

It only became visible when scholars, who had nothing
else to put on their Minority Literature syllabus,
decided to put Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee on the
mandatory reading list. (from “Half-Breeds and Scholars”).

Provost is not as approachable as Drehmer, his words harsher and looser, more violent and free-flowing, jarring, abrupt, abrasive. Where Drehmer's words quietly reflect on the living, Provost's unapologetically proclaim the dying. Through it all, there is a need to fit in, to be remembered, to lay rest to the pain, the weariness, the wandering ... to be forgiven by the self, as well as by others. His emotions are complex and sporadic, his words are curt, and his tone is unabashedly in-your-face. Oh yeah, and of course, there's a healthy jolt of that New England that I so distinctly remember:

She told me that “If I didn't
know you personally, I would
never approach you ... you're very blue
collar and always have a sneer on your face.”

Well, baby, I wear that persona like
a battle scar ... never wanting to
wear my poetic side on my sleeve.

[ ... ] (from “Blue Collar, White Heat”).


•This book was sent to me from Aleathia Drehmer; I have corresponded with both authors and have met Dan Provost briefly in person.•
Permalink
Galley-On

2/15/13

Where has Durable Goods traveled with Alternating Current?

Just for fun, we thought we'd take a little journey through our spreadsheets and check out every state and country that the microzine Durable Goods has traveled through its partnering with Alternating Current. We've distributed free sample copies of Durable Goods with every paid order on Alternating Current since the beginning, and now as the microzine draws to a close, let's see where she went! (The fun part is: it's where we went, too!)

Antarctica
  • McMurdo Station

Australia
  • Bairnsdale, Victoria
  • Christies Beach, South Australia
  • Congo, New South Wales
  • Haymarket, New South Wales
  • Melbourne, Victoria
  • Newcastle, New South Wales
  • Perth, Western Australia
  • Reid, Australian Capital Territory
  • Sunbury, Victoria
  • Tamworth, New South Wales

Belgium
  • Brussels

Canada
  • Calgary, Alberta
  • Courtenay, British Columbia
  • Dartmouth, Nova Scotia
  • Halifax, Nova Scotia
  • Lachine, Quebec
  • Regina, Saskatchewan
  • Saint John, New Brunswick
  • Sherwood Park, Alberta
  • Toronto, Ontario
  • Vancouver, British Columbia

Denmark
  • Odense, Aarup

France
  • Paris
  • Toulouse

Germany
  • Berlin

India
  • Delhi

Ireland
  • Dublin
  • Tralee, County Kerry

Italy
  • Campo Ligure, Genova
  • Spinea, Venice, Veneto

Japan
  • Moriguchi-City, Osaka

Mexico
  • Aporo, Michoacán

Netherlands
  • Arnhem

Romania
  • Sibiu

Sweden
  • Linköping
  • Stockholm

Switzerland
  • Clarens

Thailand
  • Bang Lamung, Chonburi

United Kingdom
  • England
  • Brighton, West Sussex
  • Burwell, Cambridgeshire
  • Carlisle, Cumbria
  • Corringham, Essex
  • Framlingham, Suffolk
  • Harwich, Essex
  • Knighton, Leicester
  • London
  • Longframlington, Northumberland
  • Lowestoft, Suffolk
  • Manchester, Greater Manchester
  • Redhill, Surrey
  • Redruth, Cornwall
  • Southend-on-Sea, Essex
  • Northern Ireland
  • Belfast
  • Kircubbin
  • Scotland
  • Dundee, Angus
  • Edinburgh
  • Wales
  • Brynhyflyd, Swansea

United States of America
  • Arizona
  • Arkansas
  • California
  • Colorado
  • Connecticut
  • Delaware
  • Florida
  • Georgia
  • Hawaii
  • Idaho
  • Illinois
  • Indiana
  • Ohio
  • Kentucky
  • Louisiana
  • Marshall Islands (The Republic of the Marshall Islands; MH)
  • Maryland
  • Massachusetts
  • Michigan (Upper and Lower Peninsula)
  • Minnesota
  • Missouri
  • Nevada
  • New Hampshire
  • New Jersey
  • New Mexico
  • New York
  • North Carolina
  • Oklahoma
  • Oregon
  • Pennsylvania
  • Rhode Island
  • South Dakota
  • Tennessee
  • Texas
  • Utah
  • Virginia
  • Washington
  • Washington, D. C. (District of Columbia)
  • Wisconsin

2/8/13


LETTER OF MARQUE: ARTICLE THE THIRTY-SECOND

Durable Goods #79 & #80 | Various Authors



It's always a good day when Durable Goods shows up in my box. This little gem of a micro-litzine is seeing its last days as we speak, and she will be sorely missed by those of us who have come to relish her steady intrusion of the p.o. box once or twice a month for years. I've been with Durable Goods since the beginning, having every issue in the collection all the way back to number one, sending out free DG samples with all of my paid orders on Alternating Current, and even achieving a Guest Editor slot at one point. I'm sorry to say that this fantastic microzine is coming to an end.

But tears later! Right now two more issues have arrived: #79 and #80. Issue 79 features poets Helen Losse and Sara Uribe, with a translation of the latter by Toshiya Kamei and cover art by Isabelle Pruneau; and issue 80 features poets Lori Desrosiers and Neil Serven and cover art by Andrew Post.

My favorite of the pieces in DG 79 is Ms. Losse's “At noon," a poem about a train resting:

[ ... ] in a valley-grave.
See that girder bridge

off to the right.  That's
where to look.

[ ... ]

The poem reeks of a tragic-romantic history and the resting places of so much more than just trains. You get the feeling we will all come to rest in a tragic valley grave somewhere.

“Our Place" by Neil Serven is the standout among issue 80. It's a tale of a house passing hands and papers that has a history of children's scrawls on the walls and safety locks impossible to remove and police records in the middle of the night. It is a tale of images and honesty, beautifully penned and condensed to only glimpses of a past life, just as the new buyers only get glimpses of the past life.

Children lived here.  Matchbox cars
keep turning up in the backyard, dirt
clumped in their wheel wells.  Puzzle
pieces behind the radiator.  Height
marks penciled on the door jamb.
Finger smudges.  In the basement: a
ring of woodpecker holes.  Dart scores
in chalk.  After papers were passed
they made the mistake of looking up
the address and found the police
logs.  [ ... ]

DG is no longer taking subscriptions due to their waning days, but I'm sure if you sent a dollar and a self-addressed, 46-cent stamped envelope to Durable Goods, Post Office Box 282, Painted Post, New York, 14870, you could probably get both of these issues.



•These books were sent to me from the publisher because I have corresponded with her.•
Permalink

2/25/10


LETTER OF MARQUE: ARTICLE THE EIGHTEENTH

MUST #5: Deviations | Various Authors



Poetry/prose/artwork
8 pages
4” x 2 3/4” chapbook
MUST
PO Box 282
Painted Post NY 14870

This is a quick little abstract ditty in the vein of editor Aleathia Drehmer's current line, Durable Goods, only far more abstract and freeform, but folded entirely out of one sheet of paper with fairly high-quality photocopying. The mini-zine is comprised of random snippets — connected only in their usage of, or dealings with, the word “deviation” — bits of stories and thoughts pulled from the air as if caught on a wire tap or sneaked from @handles on Twitter feeds looking for deviants or any deviation thereof.

On the negative side, the zine is pretty hard to read, with itty bitty text cast against dark grey backgrounds, blending the different fonts of grey tones into the different backgrounds of similar grey tones.

But on the positive side, there is this:

“the secret.”
by Jason Neese

Then we have What's Her Name. I immediately know I will never commit her name to memory. This is because I see an open copy of The Secret lying on her cubicle desk like the decapitated head of Mr. Rogers. Beside it are three other books. Two on the Analysis of Dreams and one on white magic. What's Her Name flashes me a smile that says:
I'm insane.
I know that I'm insane.
It's ok to transcend reality through my insanity.
Feel free to find me at the PETCO loading up on kitty litter every Sunday evening.
This concerns me.

Yes. Enough said.



•This book was sent to me from the editor/publisher because I have corresponded with her.•
Permalink

2/24/10


LETTER OF MARQUE: ARTICLE THE SEVENTEENTH

Ko IV | Aleathia Drehmer



Single prose-poem
8 pages
2” x 2 3/4” booklet
Durable Goods
PO Box 282
Painted Post NY 14870

This teeny tiny pocket book is more a piece of art, almost like a sorrowful greeting card, than a zine or chap in any way. It's just a moment, a fleeting thought, a scrawled handwritten story-poem, as fragile as the broken bird on the cover, folded from one single sheet of paper that looks as though it came from a Japanese comic book, with an older man holding lovingly (and possibly creating a burial ritual for) a dead bird.

The title is intriguing, its many meanings each reflecting the sad inside story of Aleathia's first kitten, the abuse it endured from her stepfather, and its possibly-tragic, possibly-hopeful end. Ko: “go” in Hepburn romanization of the Japanese kana; a mountain, the second highest peak in Sikhote-Alin; an ancient Chinese dagger-axe; the Japanese sound in a name meaning “child”; a Thai word meaning “island”; an abbreviation for “knockout.” I could find an excuse for all these meanings to fit the title: letting go of a knocked-out child, one drops the dagger-axe to become an island, overcoming mountains. Interesting and intriguing title of endless possibilities.

Very cute, a small labor of love for the craft; and I think it's free if you ask.



•This book was sent to me from the author because I have corresponded with her.•
Permalink