from The Book of Frank
CA Conrad
Frank’s sister grew long blue feathersshe said it was worse than cutting teethshe spent a month screaming in the cavepushing them outFrank would lie in bed at nighttouching his own backcryingpraying it wouldn’tcome to himbut the day his sister flew to the househe stood by the window in awegiant blue spread coming in across the lakehe heard the hunter’s shot before she did...Frank remembersshirts of buried generalsflying in formationover schoolyardsblowing wasps from sleeves...Frank knows abutterflywho wondersabout her oldcaterpillarfriends...she was exotic companyher mouthfull of mouseFrank never heard a wordhis gazesteady on the mousedisappearing to reappearwith every syllabledevotedhe prayedto God she’dmarry himbut late in the nightshe touched his handFrank recoiledand realizedit was reallythe mousein her mouthhe loved
From a review by Mary Wilson at Make: A Chicago Literary Magazine: The Book of Frank (Wave Books, second edition 2010) collects sixteen years worth of CA Conrad's semi-autobiographical “Frank” poems into one volume, which includes previously unpublished poems and a new afterword by Eileen Myles. Frank is Conrad’s alter ego in the vein of John Berryman’s “Huffy Henry” of The Dream Songs, a third person embodiment of Conrad’s psychic unease. Conrad was raised in rural Pennsylvania and “escaped” to Philadelphia in 1986, where he met a number of artists and writers, including writer and publisher Gil Ott, who soon became something of a mentor to him. Ott was at that time publishing writers like Charles Bernstein and Bob Perelman in his magazine Paper Air, and through him Conrad quickly found his contemporaries. He is now hosting poetry readings, designing and leading “(Soma)tic poetry” workshops, giving tarot readings (he’s interested in the occult) and writing with and about fellow poets in the group blog PhillySound.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment