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Exquisite Corpse - A Journal of Letters and Life

Critiques and Reviews

JANN BURNER: Until the 1980's most kayaks were of the white water variety

JAMES M. CROTTY: I knew Kurt Cobain

RODRIGO DORFMAN: Nobody seems to know the exact time and place the term "Reality TV" first came into existence

JONATHAN KIEFER: Not long ago, at a downtown subway station in San Francisco, I was forced to consider logging on to Monster.com

LUCY GRIFFIN APPERT: One fall semester, I lectured on Great Books before a class of 28 New York University freshmen and one naked woman who perched in the window directly across from my sixth floor classroom

JOZEF IMRICH: Back in July 1980, two burial vaults awaited the caskets of my two drowned friends. Our mother country Czechoslovakia forced them under, legs kicking, arms flailing

INA PFITZNER on Paul: As translations they reside in the middle-ground between the "domesticated" translations by Michael Hamburger and/or Joachim Neugroschel, and the formally more daring, foreignizing versions by John Felstiner or Pierre Joris. Surely to many readers' liking, these poems sound like originals themselves

CHRISTIAN PROZAK on Ed Sanders: From the man who brought us the immortal sentence "All was"

RONNIE BURK on Philip Whalen: If Gertrude Stein and William Carlos Williams had a baby it would have been Philip Whalen

KIRBY OLSON on Larry Fagin: I first met Fagin at Naropa University in 1977 where he worked as a poetry professor

JACK MICHELINE interviewed by EDDIE WOODS: I was fucked up like anyone born in the Bronx, in an Irish-Italian neighborhood

SUSAN M. SCHULTZ on Charles Bernstein and Marjorie Perloff: Bernstein's claims for poetry are in many ways even stronger than Perloff's, although he begins from the same starting blocks with (an all-too-easy?) attack on advertising culture, arguing that poets should display

 

 

MICHAEL ANDRE on Richard Morris: Richard Morris is widely admired in the small world of alternative presses and daring websites

VYT BAKAITIS on Michael Andre: Hauteur clings to pedigree; that is to say (as one might be inclined to defer to royal presumption of any order as a given, basic as tit for tat) his idiosyncratic mind holds to a line of descent

MARIA FINN: Annie Sprinkle was just on tour autographing Hardcore from the Heart with "tit prints."

EDDIE WOODS on William Levy's Otto Muehl: anyone who feels seriously uneasy reading about this should ask themselves whether their discomfort springs from genuine compassion for all sentient beings or, instead, a deep-seated sexual arousal which their conscious minds are scared shitless to acknowledge

DANA WILDE on new books about Buddhist monks and Jim Morrison: I believe that there is a limit to the extent to which you can mold the specifics of your life, that there is no escape, not into the manufacture of Shaker furniture nor into the excitement of travel

SKIP FOX on Kevin Young: Young's poetry floats just over the center, as above the rotating blades of a helicopter, almost pacific, with one or another of his figures

JESSICA MAILMAN on Michon: Recommendation: read during an absolute downpour, and have wine and fish for dinner

ANDREA ADOLPH on Bloody Twin: The integrity of poetry, in these four volumes, is not sacrificed to the concept of vehicle

SAM ANDERSON on Howard Bone: Howard Bone... was heroically unsqueamish about the circus

 


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