As we speak, it sits behind this website, ready for unveiling.

Click on the word FENCE in the upper left corner of this screen

to see the cover, the contents, and to read some of the work featured

in this, Fence’s 22nd issue.

Could Etsy be useful as a model for writing/books? Probably they often lack the prettiness.  I searched for “poetry books” and found my way to thelalatheory.com, and this book, and little books like this. There are some

beautiful artist’s books on Etsy, akin to what I’ve found at sites like Book by its Cover, and there are some necklaces with lines from Poe engraved in Bakelite . . .

and we po-people have things like PotLatch Poetry: even better, I think, because it eschews money. A little gift economy never hurt anybody.

Those not worthy are scattered wide 

The line

Coined lately 

Gone 

*

My head– 

And everyone

Changed 

*

And the Ancient of Days

Sweeping into me– 

Describe

This impossible field, this wave  

The morphine box

And flavored ice

*

Everything went on as usual, outside  

I craved a great earthquake   

(from Stranger, page 24)

Alessandro Guttenberg, 21, hobbies: music and art:

Does the meaning of words justify the waste of space? I suppose it does, though all this blankness seems to do little for the reader who’s used to prose (and poetry?). I get the feeling, when staring at pages such as those which have been handed to me by the higher authority, that more could be done. It may be my interest in Futurist poems where the meaning is expressed by many different techniques, and it may be my unusually strong need for order upon a printed page (I am a Guttenberg after all). In any case, I find myself torn between reaching towards the intangibles of short visual poetry and worrying about the trees.

Fang Lin, 19, hobbies: shopping and sleeping:

Every poem has lots of space in it, which leads me to think that I should read them slowly and in a relaxed place. I’m puzzled by some of the lines. For example, in “Those not worthy are scattered wide”: “I craved a great earthquake.” I’m wondering why the poet would crave an earthquake? Does she want to destroy everything?

Once pinned

Her hands

And then

Nothing

—–The world grows thin—–

Not fire nor water

Nor mere inundation

Nor ease

She sings between sleep

Her world is a stalker/she stalks it in turn and

The family mouth

Runs on

(from Stranger, page 23)

Amy Herrera, 19, hobbies: music and art:

In response to: “Her world is a stalker/she stalks it in turn and/The family mouth/Runs on” (23). I like this image because it seems to be the essence of the social fabric of the world. Even before social networking sites like Facebook & Twitter, there was family, and boy can family talk. You do one thing and next thing you know your tenth cousin six times removed is calling you up asking why.

 

Liya Koss, 19, hobbies: fishing, wishing, museum-hopping, and eating:

We were less involved with the lake

We asked for your name–in cups–along the way

You weren’t thinking of us

You were thinking I look much better when thin

Willowy

These are the words we used to describe

Popsicle sticks on the dresser

A cup filled with bile

The sun slanting into that summer, a hammer

She lay dreaming under that knife while we

In our alien living room

Josef Jinjikhashvili, 18, hobbies: hip-hop and writing nonsense:

In response to “We were less involved with the lake” (21). Sicky, wicky, popsicly, dressing me up as a willow tree that looks so much more appealing lifeless and leafless. But I’m only looking at the branches, not seeing the rest, that which is blocked by visually incoherent images that make up our perception of you. Basic and humane, I see you moving as everything stands dead still, but I am with you, we are the only ones who strive to not lie about how strangely non-existent exists in our world. We exist…so stop thinking and just go to the place where I told you to meet, and I’ll tell you that which you believe I think of you is wrong.

Tzivy Lerner, 19, hobbies: cultural and snow activities:

Despite the slow rhythm, the poems stream along with alacrity: a suffocating intensity that the reader cannot withdraw from. The speaker’s interest in looking “better when thin” measures her uneasiness with the norms of society. The expectations constrict the speaker’s breath; and her heart palpitations and mixed emotions pump the poems with life. The difficulty the speaker and reader feel throughout the poems is not unpleasant, but make the reader question life. Why is my heart beating fast, too?

Atusa Mozaffari, 19, hobbies: swimming and baking:

(Arrived late to class.) OK lots of nature imagery going on here. Why? Not sure!! Who wrote these anyway? I mean I like them quite a lot but I feel like I’m missing A LOT! Not a nice feeling, lemme tell ya!

The Kitchen

512 West 19th St.
New York City, New York 10011

This event launches our two newest poetry titles: Elizabeth Marie Young’s Aim Straight at the Fountain and Press Vaporize and Laura Sims’s collection Stranger. Interspersed between readings will be performances from Circus Razz, a new circus-theater company. Come out and say hi to us!

Atusa Mozaffari: Did you always imagine you’d grow up to write, to be a poet? 

Yes. But only after I gave up on the dream of being Nancy Drew, at about age 10. My mother tried to channel my interest in writing into something that would provide me with a secure future (i.e. lawyering), but I wasn’t having any of it. 

Guido Tay-Lee: When did you decide that you wanted to write poetry for a living? 

Did you say: “write poetry for a living”? Un-ironically? Ha! Actually, I have to say that I would never choose to live by my poetry alone – I’d go absolutely bonkers, and I love teaching. 

Angela Torres: Do you find that your students and teaching experience inspire your writing in any way? 

Teaching inspires me on a daily basis, and makes me feel like I’m doing something meaningful & rewarding with my life, but it doesn’t directly inspire my writing. In fact, it often dampens my enthusiasm for writing, at least during the school year; teaching requires all my energy then, and I give it gladly. 

Angela Torres: What is a book or poem that had a strong impact on you as a child? 

William Steig’s The Amazing Bone comes to mind, among many others. I wrote a “book” of stories and poems (with illustrations) when I was 5, and included a complete rip-off version of that story. Also included in that collection was the poem “Press Me”: “Press me up / Press me down / Press me like a merry-go-round.” J  

Emil Frank: If you could live the life of a character in any story/book, which one would that be? 

I have to be honest here, even if it’s embarrassing, and say Bella from the Twilight series. Come on! What could be better? And if you didn’t make it to Breaking Dawn, you don’t know what I mean. A close second: Lyra from the His Dark Materials trilogy. 

Christy DaBreo: Which poets have had the greatest influence on your writing? 

Not in any particular order, and not an exclusive list: Lorine Niedecker, Rae Armantrout, Cole Swensen, Robert Creeley, Sylvia Plath (my students’ favorite!), Barbara Guest, Michael Palmer, George Oppen, Russell Edson, Emily Dickinson, Anne Carson, Paul Celan, William Carlos Williams, Susan Howe… 

David Tawil: What inspired you to write in the unorthodox style that you write? 

Encountering the work of many of the writers listed above. This happened around the time I was in grad school, although I did not read that work as part of the grad school’s curriculum. I read their poetry and it changed the workings of my brain – for good. 

Evan Wong: What motivated you to publish this book besides the fact you earn money? 

 I really just did it for the cash.  

Michelle Meyerovich: Why are all the poems interconnected and was it on purpose? 

Yes, it was on purpose. They’re interconnected because it’s supposed to form something of a narrative, a journey through my mother’s life, death and afterlife, though a very fragmented one with copious gaps or “blanks.”  

Alessandro Guttenberg: What would happen if a single rhyme were to be introduced in one of your poems? Would it disrupt some kind of equilibrium? 

Pay attention Alessandro! There ARE rhymes in there! Just not end-rhymes. 

Josef Jinjikhashvili: Do you feel that your writing has a specific purpose, meaning and interpretation, or is it left up to us, individuals, to decide? 

I think it’s largely left up to the individual reader. Sometimes my writing doesn’t even have a consistent meaning or interpretation to me – it changes with each reading, or new readers bring new levels of meaning to it for me. 

Liya Koss: Why do you prefer slow-paced poetry? Is it actually as peaceful as it sounds or is it used as therapy for the flaming rage inside? 

Therapy for the flaming rage! But the peacefulness is not a mask; it represents that place I reach when writing that allows me to look around and calmly survey, report, release.  

Christian Marte: Do you write poetry first as a freewrite or do you use some sort of inspiration/point of reference? 

There’s always a starting point of some kind: an overheard conversation, a line of dialogue, a misheard word…it starts from there. Usually as a freewrite, which I put aside for a while and then return to at least several more times, crafting and honing until I’m satisfied. 

Michelle Meyerovich: When are you writing your next book of poems? 

Right NOW. Supposedly. I’ve been working on what has become a new manuscript for the past two years…but I don’t feel that I’m finished yet, and I didn’t get much work done on it in the past 8 months. I hope to get a lot of writing done this summer.     

 -colie

Some of the pieces in this issue were accepted and slotted for last winter’s issue (glitterObama), but were removed when it became too long. Others were accepted two or three weeks ago. I’m learning not to say when things are coming out—I inevitably become the bearer of never-minds. It’s too hard to say.

One thing I know for sure is that our editors’ note in this issue is pulled from a very important book: Living on the Earth by Alicia Bay Laurel. The selected page contains her instructions (and illustrations) on how to build a proper fence. I keep this book around and I daydream about the Vashti Bunyan-esque (Vashti Bunyan, Vashti Bunyan…) woman I could be, and try to be, though I peer at margins all day and rarely go hiking in the buff. (Tho I did take off my shoes this weekend to go outside, promptly locking myself and my partner right out of our apartment.) I once tried to make sauerkraut using Alicia Bay Laurel’s recipe, and instead I made some awful cabbage-mold soup.

But there is a way in which the concept of fermentation can be applied to the literary journal, and a way in which we build little gates out of fonts, big enough for the eye to slip through but too small to let the reader out altogether.

So next we’ll build a tent out of woven blankets, build our own ukuleles, and start a fire with two sticks in the office, over which we’ll make some brown bread. To celebrate. As soon as the issue comes out.

–posted by colie