October 5th, 2008


The Only Thing Worse ...

Issue 1 is out, at http://www.forgodot.com/2008/10/issue-1-release-announcement.html. No, not Issue 1 of anything; that is, apparently, the name of the journal. Um, anthology, whatever: a sui-generis compilation of falsely attributed flarf compilations pretending to be quasi-experimental poetry and, in most cases, doing a damn fine job. I'm not sure what qualified me for inclusion. Ron Silliman's blog http://ronsilliman.blogspot.com/ for October 5 calls it "at 3,164 names as complete a collection of mostly post-avant poets I have ever seen," but it also includes such luminaries as William Shakespeare and Edna St. Vincent Millay, whom I'm pretty sure qualify as ante-avant. To say nothing of Wallace Stevens and Ezra Pound/Confucius—one wonders how they would have classified their own works.

I didn't particularly want to be post- anything, but am willing to masquerade as such to entrap the unwary. QED. For your edification, the poem attributed to me is included. Under the circumstances, I felt that any ordinary considerations of copyright or permissions could be safely ignored. On the whole, I find it quite pleasing.

Plucking made like dark

A sort of steamer
A sort of race
A sort of nighttime
The separated spiders screamed
I advanced without remorse, without questioning the
. visions
I comprehended the lust of the thigh
There was time
. to become the lights
. . that I exchanged
Cold was I
. who unraveled the vastness of
. . the vein, the wisdom of my visions
Untouched as a wood and stirred as a finger
Golden as a chamber and dependent as a hill
Exhibiting an other admiring bee
. from beneath solemn prosaic
. . mention

F.J. Bergmann

Curiously, a few fortunate—or, at any rate, selected for particular distinction—individuals appear more than once. I am not one of those elect. As Kissinger said about Doonesbury, "The only thing worse than being in it would be not to be in it."