Thursday, April 17, 2014

Forthcoming in E·ratio 19

Asemic Knitting Writing  

Margo Korableva Performance Theatre, Tbilisi, Georgia

Gvantsa Nikabadze, Keti Latsunashvili, Maiko Lapachi, Mary Vardiashvili and Mariam Nikabadze

Conceived and directed by David Chikhladze
Photo assistance: Ana Kalandarishvili
Design assistance: Smaki Siradze

Thanks to Rusiko Oat and OAT Gallery & ART Cafe 144 Stairs


















Friday, April 11, 2014

Thursday, April 10, 2014

“Suppose that I could succeed in writing as well as Shakespeare. It would be lovely, but what then? There is something wanting in literary art even at its highest. Literature is not enough. The greatest literature is still only mere literature if it has not a purpose commensurate with its art. Presence or absence of purpose distinguishes literature from mere literature, and the elevation of the purpose distinguishes literature within literature. That is merely literature that has no other object than to please. Minor literature has a didactic object. But the greatest literature of all—the literature that scarcely exists—has not merely an aesthetic object, nor merely a didactic object, but, in addition, a creative object: that of subjecting its readers to a real and at the same time illuminating experience. Major literature, in short, is an initiation into truth.”

 —Katherine Mansfield


Wednesday, February 19, 2014

My play, Come Spring, Comes a Circus, along with additional texts taken from my book, Theatreland, with the Margo Korableva Performance Theatre, Tbilisi, Georgia.













Monday, February 10, 2014

On Twitter it’s The Best of E·ratio and right now it’s poet Anne Blonstein (1958-2011):

https://twitter.com/EratioPoetry.

E·ratio is reading for issue 19, the spring 2014 issue.

E·ratio publishes poetry in the postmodern idioms with an emphasis on the intransitive. E·ratio has been online for ten years and has consistently presented new, first-time and emerging writers alongside some of the most recognized and respected writers of our time. E·ratio will never ask for a donation. Please support us with a “Like” on Facebook or Follow us on Twitter.

Sunday, December 29, 2013
















Juliet by Joseph F. Keppler (2013). Torn and pasted paper collage, 6.5" x 5".

Forthcoming in E·ratio 18, Sparring in Seattle with Time, Space, Art, and Minds. Essays and art by Joseph F. Keppler.

Friday, December 20, 2013
















The forthcoming issue 18 of E·ratio is dedicated to the memory of the English author, Colin Wilson (26 June 1931 - 5 December 2013).

 Read The Colin Wilson Interview at E·ratio.

 And read my review of the 2010 Colin Wilson documentary, Strange is Normal.


 e·

Wednesday, December 04, 2013

E·ratio issue 18 is in production. Proofs will be going out soon.





Saturday, October 26, 2013

I wrote this utterly fictitious “invective poem” for Carl Solomon (1928-1993). Remember his Mishaps, Perhaps (1966) and More Mishaps (1968)? I visited Carl, one afternoon, while he was living in The Bronx in New York City. Carl’s situation, there, seemed to be that he was taking care of two elderly and ailing relatives, and the apartment smelled like hospital. It was a big, old apartment with few pieces of furniture. The two were in their bedsteads, one in what would have been the living room and the other in what would have been the dining room. I had to pass through the apartment to get to Carl’s bedroom, where he sat me on a chair and he sat on the bed. He thought I came there to grill him with questions about Allen Ginsberg, but no, like I told him on the phone it was to talk about his books, Mishaps, Perhaps and More Mishaps. And we did. And he signed my copies. And he gave me a copy of the two published together in a French edition, and he signed that for me as well. In the months that followed we shared some letters and postcards (his were all written in pencil). Going to see Carl, and wanting to sense him in person, I had a question in my mind, and that question also included Artaud and Jones Very and Christopher Smart. My sense of him, then, and now, still, was that he was just worn out (and had been, for a long time).

Read my poem, “Two Songs for Samson,” online at Empty Mirror.


Thank you, Denise.