The Curgina

     In the first scene of Hamlet we see this piece ("stich") of iambic pentameter:

It would be spoke to.
                        Question it, Horatio.

     It is split into two lines because different people, Bernardo then Marcellus, are speaking.  What if we could find other reasons to separate lines of verse?  What if we want to enjamb for all the reasons free versers do?

     For example, what if we want to create temporary ambiguity?  Consider the last sentence from the first stanza of DPK's "Joie de Mourir:

Beyond this arid pit is life,
lived incognito. Dreams resist
our beckoning. Just coax the one
that's closest: I can see my wife,
a rose corsage adorns her wrist;
her iris catches the voyeur sun.

     Note what happens when you break the lines thus:

 I can see my wife, a rose
corsage adorns her wrist; her iris
catches the voyeur sun.

     Now we see the speaker compare his wife to a rose and that "iris" is a pun, referring to the flower and the part of an eye around the pupil.

     What if we want pauses within lines to give weight to what has just been said or is about to be?  Here we see an elegy for Chilean President Salvador Allende where the writer pauses to think up a euphemism that won't bring down the wrath of those listening:

September came like winter's
ailing child but
left us
viewing Valparaiso's pride. Your face was
always saddest when you smiled. You smiled as every
doctored moment lied. You lie with
orphans' parents, long
reviled.

     Were there no consequences, the speaker might want to say:

September came like the worst disaster in our history winter's
ailing child but was murdered
left us bereft of freedom and leadership
viewing Valparaiso's pride. Your face was, poignantly now,
always saddest when you smiled. You smiled as every treasonous scum
doctored moment lied. You lie with massacred innocents
orphans' parents, long revered by lovers of democracy
reviled by treasonous scum.

     What if you know an editor who is phobic about metered work?  Because these poems must operate as both types of verse, free and metered, they may be the perfect disguise for a naughty prank.  Of course, all of this is lost without these linebreaks.

September came like winter's ailing child
but left us viewing Valparaiso's pride.
You face was always saddest when you smiled.
You smiled as every doctored moment lied.
You lie with orphans' parents, long reviled.

     Suppose we want our performers to speak naturally, not necessarily or exclusively in ten-syllable bursts?  Check out the iambic pentameter presentation of A. Michael Juster's "Plea":

This is the time for mercy, time for letting
rage recede.

     Ten syllables might constitute a regular breath pause but who stops after "letting" here?  Here is how this sentence appeared in the poem when it was published in the November 1988 edition of "South Carolina Review":

This is the time
for mercy,

time for letting
rage recede.

     It still breaks on "letting" but after two syllables, not nine.  The voice is now more hesitant and breathless. 

     This is the definition of a curgina:  meter with free verse linebreaks.  Thus, while "line" and "stich" (i.e. the stretch of beats or syllables--ten in the case of pentameter--that make up the meter) mean much the same thing in other poems, they have little or no relation in curginas.  For example, the first stich in "Plea" is stretched out to form three lines.

     What if we want to highlight some internal rhyming?  Recently, Catherine Chandler's "Wherein the Snow is Hid" appeared in "Autumn Sky Poetry Daily".  Every stanza followed this pattern:

My roof is tempest-proof, my kitchen bright;
still, a bleak expanse
blinds my bedroom’s line of sight
as if to tease,
in squalls of gusting, icy sibilance,

     We see iambic pentameter, trimeter, tetrameter, dimeter and pentameter, with rhymes on lines 1 and 3, 2 and 5.  Thus, it is heterometer.  Indeed, we could leave things there.  However, if one wanted to reduce the number of meters to two and make the rhymes less conspicuous--which is the modern trend--one could combine the final four lines into two heptameters.

My roof is tempest-proof, my kitchen bright;
still, a bleak expanse blinds my bedroom’s line of sight
as if to tease, in squalls of gusting, icy sibilance,

     In this "decurginated" version we see pentameter, heptameter, heptameter.

     The curginic approach works seamlessly with others, old (e.g. sonnet, acrostic) and new (e.g. DATIA, cliché collage, etc.).

     While the term is barely a decade old, the concept of the curgina² likely wasn't new in 1923 when W.C. Williams published "The Red Wheelbarrow".  Watch for it in the 5th edition of the "Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics".

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Footnotes:

¹ - Notice that all of the words that end stichs (e.g. "bright", "sight" and "sibilance") also end lines (e.g. L1, L3 and L5) in the curginated version.  Put another way, no line in the curgina contains text from more than one full line in the decurginated version.  When speaking of entire poems this is called a "terminal" curgina.  All other examples we've seen are "enjambed" curginas.

² - Do not confuse the curgina with the corata, which is metered poetry rendered as prose, in paragraphs, or in unlineated text, like Beowulf.

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    Your feedback is appreciated!

    Please take a moment to comment or ask questions below or, failing that, mark the post as "funny", "interesting", "silly" or "dull".  Also, feel free to expand this conversation by linking to it on Twitter or Facebook.  Please let us know if you've included us on your blogroll so that we can reciprocate.

    If you would like to follow us, contact us confidentially or blog here as "Gray for a Day" please befriend us, "Earl Gray", on Facebook.

    We look forward to hearing from you.

Signed,

Earl Gray, Esquirrel

---

Open Letters

Dear Ryan Boudinot, author of "Things I Can Say About MFA Writing Programs Now That I No Longer Teach in One":

     I read with interest and have bolded your explanation of why everyone, including you, celebrates your retirement from academia.  Your swan song begins with a startling example of True Bullshit that makes me wonder if your choice of professions was well-advised:

Writers are born with talent.

     Writers are born with imagination and drive.  Their talent, if it exists in quantity,  is a verbal acumen found in polyglots, cruciverbalists, etymologists, and spelling bee champions.  Talent makes learning easier. It does not make learning possible.

     If we insist that all of our students be "The Real Deal" we won't have enough tuition income to pay our beer tab, let alone keep a department or university afloat.  Wanting to teach only self-motivated geniuses who, by definition, don't need much instruction smacks of laziness.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #159

If you didn't decide to take writing seriously by the time you were a teenager, you're probably not going to make it.

     Utter nonsense.  The majority of teenagers, including those who will make the most interesting writers, are busy "collecting life experience."

If you complain about not having time to write, please do us both a favor and drop out.

     Ibid. 

     Also, I can't cite a single writer who hasn't made the same complaint.  Can you?

If you aren't a serious reader, don't expect anyone to read what you write.

     Danielle Steele.  Charles Bukowski.  E.L. James.  Need I go on?

No one cares about your problems if you're a shitty writer.

     Again, see above. 

You don't need my help to get published.

     Then what do they need you for?  Why take your course?  Doesn't everything people learn there help them get published?  Shouldn't you be telling them everything you know about this, the most practical aspect of writing?  Why hold back?

     As for attracting notice so that their work will, at least, be considered, what are filters for?  What are university presses for?  Stop worrying about "The Real Deal" and start thinking about the real world.  You may be the agent your students can't afford.  With so many other professors recommending their prize pupils what will your silence say? 

It's not important that people think you're smart.

     This is not something you need worry about, Ryan.

It's important to woodshed.

     Even more so to watershed.

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Dear Laura Valeri, author of "Those Who Teach, Can -- A Formal Reply to Ryan Boudinot’s Post on Teaching":

     I agree with your basic premise that, as teachers, our job is to instruct whomsoever attends our class while encouraging them to continue doing so.  I have a few nits, though:

...are you the best judge of students’ talent?

     Probably.  In this age of esteem-based education, Mr. Boudinot might be the first objective, critical source they've met.  That said, I agree that he confuses the endpoint with the start.  Evaluations measure how much progress they'll make later.  Nothing more.

...we teach our students not to make sweeping statements that are unsupported by serious data. Where is yours?

     It's a blog, not Scholar's Quarterly.  If we see something demonstrably incorrect it is incumbent on us to make our own arguments in situ, on our own blogs or elsewhere.

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Dear Chuck Wendig, author of "An Open Letter To That Ex-MFA Creative Writing Teacher Dude":

Signed,

Earl Gray, Esquirrel

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Independent Poetry

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #141

     In every aspect possible, independent (aka "private" or "Labor of Love"/"LoL") publications are the polar opposite of "institutional poetry" publishers.  It begins at the top, where independents tend to be privately owned and operated.  Think "Mom 'n Pop" versus Walmart.  Decisions are made by individuals without regard to oversight committees.  Because Nobody Reads Poetry, independents serve those who write poetry, as opposed to those who teach it.  At this time, a publication credit from an independent, no matter how good, will rarely make a strong addition to one's resumé.

Watermelon Convergence

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #157

     Few Labor of Love editors have any experience with or understanding of The Watermelon Problem.

    "Why," they wonder, "would any editor put a cap on quality?"

     If handed one of the great poems of our time they would do cartwheels and then publish it.  WTP?  Why overthink this?

     Different crowds.  Different goals. 

     In terms of quality, poems in academic periodicals coalesce perilously close to the Billy Collins level.  Those in private publications usually range all the way from Maz down to Amiri Baraka wannabes.  This "hit or miss" tendency is part of their charm.

     The danger in any one-person-band is that all the songs will end up sounding the same.  Similarly, independents worry about convergence, not watermelons.  There is the risk that, over time, people will do exactly what the venue's guidelines insist:  they will read what is published there and submit more of same.  One aesthetic fits all!  If the editor falls into such a rut there will be no reason for subscribers to read a second poem.  That is one less reason for them to be subscribers in the first place.  What distinguishes even the most successful independents is how they deal with convergence.

Four Noteworthy Editors

Timothy Green

4.  "Rattle" editor Timothy Green runs an NFL Fantasy Football league for poets.  Not impressed?  Well, how many versers do you have to meet before you find 14 who don't giggle at the mention of "Tight Ends"?  How many of us are acquainted with 14 poets who might know that William Shakespeare¹ played halfback for the Notre Dame Fighting Irish under the personal monicker "The Merchant of Menace"?  (I'm not making this stuff up.)  Obviously, Tim is one of the most charismatic and friendly editors in poetry.  Along with his wife, Megan, he has made "Rattle" the most recognized independent around, due in part to his masterful use of social media.  In terms of inspiring poetry production he stands without equal.

     Most people assume that poetry editors study the craft and engage in critical discussions.  In truth, very few have any interest in matters technical and many are downright hostile to critique.  One prominent institutional publisher won't accept any poems that have been offered up for informed, objective online critique.  Many private publishers feel the same way.  This lack of sophistication--especially in the original sense of the word--shows in the final product.  Quaint narratives with linebreaks might be more interesting than thinly veiled philosophy lectures but can make a publication seem like the Readers Digest with narrowed margins.

John Amen

3.  Independent verse tends to be more fancentric and may even have [gasp!] stage value.  For example, "The Pedestal", one of the few Labors of Love that pays its poets ($20?), is put out by John Amen, an occasional participant in open mics and slams. This makes the poems he chooses slightly less prose-like than most of his competitors'.

     Previously, at least, John would employ guest editors, thus staving off the threat of convergence while adding an element of unpredictability to his periodical.   By widening the perspective, John or one of the temporary editors will occasionally find a gem.  Thus, while nowhere near as consistent, the average poem in "The Pedestal" edges out its counterpart in "Rattle".

     The question arises:  "Why have 'The Pedestal' or 'Rattle' not made the quantum leap into the top two?"

     Unlike some of his guest editors, John hasn't raised his profile among the best² poets and in places where rising stars can be found.  The old model of an arbiter passively waiting for good stuff to arrive over the transom is long gone.  The key to producing a first rate 'zine--even on a $0 budget--is no more complicated than knowing where to find stellar sources.  Having done so, you hope the best writers will send you their better works, lest you suffer the fate of the New Yorker. 

Christine Klocek-Lim

2.   Private venues tend to be more form-friendly and inventive, with no reservations about including a curgina, corata, DATIA, cada línea, reverser, multimedia or cliché collage.  While institutionals present [allusive] hypertext in the figurative sense, indies might do so literally, as in "Elegy for Eva", published in Autumn Sky Poetry #12.  By contrast, in academia "experimental" means "incoherent".

    Inclusion in the list of "The Ten Most Influential People in Poetry Today" does Christine Klocek-Lim scant justice in general, let alone as the owner-operator of "Autumn Sky Poetry" and, most recently, "Autumn Sky Poetry Daily".  She is everything you'd expect but don't get in other editors.  She is intelligent, gracious, tactful and trusted.  Her two tours as administrator of the Poets.org critical forum established her geek credentials.  (As a SciFi fan and writer, she is also a nerd.  Christine is among the very few poets who can recite the Ferenghi Rules of Acquisition as easily as our Laws of Poetry.)  She may be the one person in poetry who is cherished and revered as much as Maz.  Her "Autumn Sky Poetry" was the most consistently good and diverse source of poetry in the world.  Her unique approach involved going beyond the biggies (i.e. Eratosphere, Gazebo or Poetry Free-For-All) and into the "friendlies".  It seems that every aspiring unknown on the planet took performance enhancing drugs in order to create their career best poem and submit it to Ms. Klocek-Lim. 

     The problem is that the brighter lights weren't as forthcoming.  This was an awkward situation.  To those who adore her, the merest whim from Christine was like a command from on high.  Seeing this, she became the least demanding person on the planet.  On occasions when we could inquire of her talented friends why they failed to contribute more often we always received the same reply:  "She didn't ask." 

Michael Burch

1.   Michael Burch asked.  He approached people collectively on sites like Eratosphere and privately.  He did features, including the poet's best work regardless of whether it had been published or not.  In short order, "The Hypertexts" became a "Who's Who" of skilled poets and the single best source of contemporary poetry in the world.

     He managed this despite being Ms. Klocek-Lim's mirror opposite.  His lack of interest in technique accounts for the clunkers on his site.  His political and religious stridency is alienating and continues to cost him goodwill and attention.  Nevertheless, he usually heeds aesthetic advice from reliable sources, thus benefitting from bird-dogging and referrals.

Solicitation

     Reflecting their focus on poets rather than poems, institutional and literary³ venues often request poems or articles from well-known poetry teachers, including some current contributors.  Such celebrities are usually listed in an "About [Us]" section, along with one or two glaringly
godawful gargoyles (one of whom managed to parlay a BA into a 5-year stint as a university professor emeritus) to "represent" the non-academic world.  The honored instructors spark interest among colleagues, alumni, and students on a school-by-school (literally or aesthetically) basis.

     It is like college football, complete with cheerleaders.

      Independents tend not to have such pantheons.  Why?  It's not like poets don't have heroes and heroines among their peers and predecessors. 

     Soliciting poems from established authors is controversial because those who submit through normal channels, expecting work to be judged solely on intrinsic merit, view celebrities as jumping the queue.  This conflicts with the editor's need to produce exemplary verse.  The solution is to do so discreetly and either at startup, to make a splash, or when the quality of submissions has dipped below acceptability.  Posting a list of people whose work the editor will favor would be counterproductive, if not suicidal.  Thus, the practice that encourages participation in academia discourages it elsewhere.

     Becoming the world's best poetry editor seems straightforward enough.  Learn to use social media as well as Tim Green, familiarize yourself with performance and pinch-hitters as John Amen has, approach experts individually as Michael Burch does and do everything else like Christine Klocek-Lim.

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Footnotes:

¹ - He claimed to be a direct descendant of the Bard before and after failing sophomore English.  When the Pittsburgh Steelers took him in 1936 he became the third person ever drafted in the NFL.

² - Not the best known.  The best.

³ - Literary magazines, which include prose and poetry, are often constituted like independents (i.e. with specific owners rather than committees) but they tend to act like institutionals, their poetry (if not their prose) efforts serving only the academic community. 

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Links:

1. Institutional Poetry

2.Independent Poetry

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Institutional Poetry

"...the players couldn't take the field; 
the marching band refused to yield
the day the music died."

     - "American Pie" by Don McLean

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From "The Watermelon Problem - Part I":

     Please take this Commercial Poetry Challenge:  Go to, say, Poetry Magazine and try to read the verse there without saying to yourself:  "Surely they have better submissions than this...!" followed by the inevitable "So what do they do with the good stuff?"

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Earl the Squirrel's Rule #1

     Venues associated with a public¹ foundation, university or arts organization are "institutionals" as opposed to privately owned "independents".  Because Nobody Reads Poetry, independents cater to people who write poetry while institutionals engage those who teach it.  Amateurs versus pros, in the best sense of the words.  Indeed, the terms "institutional", "professional" and "academic" have become interchangeable in recent years.  Not surprisingly, there is a consistency/groupthink evident in editorial and strategic decisions.

     These venues provide publication credits in a publish-or-perish environment.  Every work reflects the same underlying need:  material for interpretive analysis.  Without exception, we see substance over form, nuance over prosody, what over how.  Aside from some droll puns and sly literary references, humor is absent, as are entertainment and performance value.  Tragedy and narrative are rare.  Drama and romance are verboten.  Aside from austere readings by the poet, there is no room for additional media:  performing, graphics (except for the occasional ekphrastic), video, music, etc.  One observer labeled this "business card poetry":  concise unadorned text designed to increase one's profile and opportunities.  A more charitable view is that it is serious and professional. 

     One of the inevitable consequences of the death of contemporary poetry is that those preserving the classics would create their own echo chamber.  When asked to guess the number of poets alive, one authority forgot to include anyone from the 98+% who are neither MFA nor English graduates.  Not only has the marching band taken the field and refused to yield, they don't acknowledge the existence of players.  To this day, none of the institutionals has mentioned the name, let alone the work, of the two greatest poets of our time.  When was the last time you read a criticism or review of a poet from outside academia?  If we consider poetry today and exclude those charged with judging it, not only does Nobody Read Poetry but, apparently, nobody writes it, either!

     Here comes the punchline:  These are the first people to deny that poetry is dead.  LOL!

Don Share

     The best of the institutionals is the Poetry Foundation's "Poetry" magazine.  It is less regional than, say, university presses and has better funding than the next 100 poetry publications combined.  It forms the nexus of the PoBiz.  While we geeks were somewhat disappointed by his predecessor, Editor-in-Chief Don Share has proven to be a master of promotion, beginning with his thought-provoking links on Facebook.  He and his magazine define professional writing.   True, purists and amateurs tend to abuse him but, perversely , that is progress!  When we're talking about an art form in need of revival disrespect is better than disregard.  This guy gets noticed.  

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #2

     In terms of quality, institutionals maintain a very strict and narrow common denominator, achievable by all contributors.  This translates to Three to Four range on the Egoless Scale.  Occasionally we'll see a Five or Six from an exceptional poet but it will almost always be among the worst pieces that artist has produced.  In this regard, The New Yorker sets the industry standard.  With professional jealousies and territoriality running high, the Watermelon problem becomes a defining concern.  Among the many reasons for admiring institutional editors is their ability to reject outstanding poems in order to preserve the peace.  I confess that I lack the diplomatic sophistication to do the same.

Brooklyn poet Tina Chang

     Let me cite two poems as contrast.  We begin with one of the best works I've seen on a professional site in a while and a rare example of free verse (as opposed to arhythmic prose poetry or prose qua poetry):  Tina Chang's "Origin and Ash" from the Poetry Foundation site.  The challenge is to read it without saying "Wait a minute!  I have dozens of poem just like this in my 'work in progress' file!"

     The piece begins with the dreaded list of unrelated objects, in the midst of which we see this 14 feet of almost perfect binary:

A cup | of milk | before | me tastes | of melt|ed al|monds.  = Hypercatalexis

It is | the stor|y  of | the eve | of my | begin|ning. Gifts | for me:

     Were this verse we'd be complaining of the metronome.  This stretch establishes a dominant rhythm--something that would be apparent to anyone with a grounding in performance.  A more common approach is to use such strict patterning to underscore vital passages, as she does (again with an extra syllable at the end of the penultimate line) in her finale:

If I hurry, I will dance with my father before the sun sets,
my slip|pers click|ing        = Hypercatalexis
on a | thin lay'r | of rain.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #13

     The short "i" sounds are nice but the last strophe of a poem is a poor time to discover assonance.  The lack of cohesion and sonics, along with the preponderance of iambs, reveals this to be unfinished verse.  This is the random jotting of lines we save in a notebook, hoping to hammer them into a poem later.  It isn't even a draft.  Rather, it is a collection of nice imagery cast wantonly onto the negligée of a narrative.  It is a Four with sprinkles.

     While over-interpreters take up classroom time ascribing more and more obscure meanings to "Origin and Ash", let us examine a poem that is like catnip to geeks but would never appear in a professional 'zine.

     First, it's in meme format:  graphics without an accompanying text file.  This being the case, most institutional editors would see the ".jpg" file extension and not bother clicking on the picture.

     Secondly, it is technically imaginative, an expression that translates to "gimmicky" among professionals.  This explains why you won't see evidence of new prosodic concepts, including curginas or cada líneas (of which this is both), in academic writing.  To wit, if we rearrange the linebreaks we see that it is iambic trimeter throughout, albeit with an abbreviated denouement.

Ros|ie knows | the night
is a | forgiv|ing thing. 
She takes | her daught|er's corn|er,
pos|ing just | a lit|tle
clos'r | to the | street light. 
It's a | school night | for Lynn; 
someone | will have | the child|ren|
in bed | by ten.

     Metrically speaking, we could say that the final rhyme, "ten" and "children", promotes the "-ren" to a lame foot.  In any case, the ending comes short and sharp.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #12

     Thirdly, the sonics, including rhymes (e.g. "street light" "school night"), don't make random cameo appearances, as in "Origin and Ash".  They begin in line 1 and remain throughout.

     Fourthly and fatally, "Paradise Has No Colonies" follows the traditional fancentric aesthetic, as illustrated in Rule #12, rather than the Postmodern writer-oriented one captured in Rule #2.  At first glance, it is a sympathetic picture--literally--of a prostitute and her extended family.  The technique keeps these words in our minds and, ideally, brings us back.  Only when we examine the breaks do we see the storyline unfold with each line (hence the genre's name, "cada línea"), viewed in isolation, encapsulating a different facet of their lives.

 

Rosie knows the night            = Experience
is a forgiving                   = Redemption
thing.  She takes her daughter's = Incest
corner, posing just a little     = Artifice
closer to the street             = Environment
light.  It's a school            = Education
night for Lynn;  someone         = Humanization
will have the children           = Childbirth
in bed by ten.                   = Pedophilia

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Footnotes:

¹ - This distinction can become blurred when, for example, owners run the publication through a [more or less] private non-profit organization.  The real test is the aesthetic/demographic they serve.

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Links:

1. Institutional Poetry

2. Independent Poetry

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    Your feedback is appreciated!

    Please take a moment to comment or ask questions below or, failing that, mark the post as "funny", "interesting", "silly" or "dull".  Also, feel free to expand this conversation by linking to it on Twitter or Facebook.  Please let us know if you've included us on your blogroll so that we can reciprocate.

    If you would like to follow us, contact us confidentially or blog here as "Gray for a Day" please befriend us, "Earl Gray", on Facebook.

    We look forward to hearing from you.

Signed,

Earl Gray, Esquirrel

---

Rating Verse

     The Egoless site allowed people to engage in critique anonymously, thus removing name recognition, personal histories and histrionics from the process.  Poems and critiques were rated from 1 to 10.

     Over time, versers and critics would earn a performance rating based on their work.  Poems and poets with an evaluation of 5 or lower were relegated to the "Egolyte" novice section. 

     What follows is this geek's guess as to how the various numbers translate into real world measurement, using familiar names to represent the categories.

~1 = Unreadable        = The Charles Bukowski Level

      Bukowski made a career out of rehashing clichéd themes for rebellious teenaged boys, few of whom could recite any of his or anyone else's verses.  Today, we can look at his "poetry" and wonder if there could be a clumsier, more verbose and prosey way to say what he did.  He was to prose-with-linebreaks what William McGonagall was to verse. 

~2 = Rank Neophyte     = The Lawrence Ferlinghetti Level

      Contrary to popular misconception, anti-establishment publishers were not new in the 1760s, let alone the 1960s.  There is a reason Ferlinghetti had to self-publish.  Ask 100 fans who've read Gregory Corso, Allen Ginsberg and Richard Brautigan who their favorite Beat poet was.  See how many mention Lawrence.  Now factor in how little this group added to our prosody.  Need I go on?

~3 = Average Beginner  = The Kahlil Gibran Level

     Having absorbed the basis of grammar and syntax, aided by a spell checker and thesaurus, many writers assume that poetry entails nothing more than profound insights or profound emotions coupled with an overactive ENTER key.  It is here their education begins or, in the sad case of Gibran and all other Content Regents, ends.  This is also known as "PFFA's Mendoza Line";  anything lower than Gibran might get poem and poet relegated to the lower critical forums on Poetry Free-For-All. 

~4 = Promising Novice  = The Billy Collins Level

     There is a huge gap between those with no concept of poetry (e.g. Bukowski, Ferlinghetti, Gibran, p[r]osers) and those whose view of verse, while cloudy, is enough to allow them to concede its existence (albeit without being able to produce it themselves).  Billy's Egoless rating has been estimated at 3.72, with the median score lower than that.  Only one of his many works was deemed publishable.  I once saw him attempt a sonnet.  He managed to clear the octet before it collapsed.  No, he won't win any Nemerovs but he did better than most.  (Not that it matters but he was a pleasant surprise as a Poet Laureate.)  Here is a frightening thought:  more than 50% of the well-known living poets are worse than Billy Collins.

~5 = Notable Newcomer  = The Marc Smith Level

     Many young poets begin with open mics and slams, thus putting the cart before the horse¹.  Still, they learn something few academics ever get around to comprehending:  the value of presentation.  Judging Smith to be the best living lyric poetry performer may say more about the state of the art than about him, but there you have it.  I know of far worse places to begin one's experience with poetry.

~6 = Sound             = The Rhina Espaillat Level

     Whoa!  This must be a mistake!  There has to be an entire galaxy, populated by millions of poets, between Egolyters such as Billy Collins or Marc Smith and the fifth greatest poet of our time!

     Well, yes and no.  There is a near-infinite gulf between those who have mastered verse's elements, starting with Ms. Espaillat, and those who haven't.  Nevertheless, the number of people conversant with rudimentary prosody numbers is in the hundreds, not millions.  Those with Rhina's expertise number in the dozens, at most.  And, no, the difference in output between her and an Egolyter isn't unquantifiable or subtle, nor is it a matter of opinion or taste.  In essence, we are comparing Tiger Woods to someone putting with a nine iron. 

~7 = Publishable       = The Derek Walcott Level

     Imagine a free verse poem that would be accepted everywhere:  at "Shit Creek Review" by the late, lamented geek, Paul Stevens;  at "Lucid Rhythms" by metrist Robert Ludlum;  at "The Hypertext" by activist Michael Burch; at "Rattle" by popular editor Timothy Green;  or, at "Poetry" magazine by either Don Share or his predecessor, Christian Wyman.  This ability to overcome editorial tastes with luminescent quality makes such poetry publishable without qualification or explanation.

~8 = Award-winning     = The Alicia E. Stallings Level

     In a perfect world we would go from the specific to the general.  Awards committees would read every poetry collection produced during a period, pick one solely on its own merit, and inspire readers (tanr) to seek other work by that author.  In the real world poets need to earn a reputation in order to attract the attention of selection panels.  This tends to favor consistency over meteoric brilliance. 

~9 = Anthology-worthy  = The Margaret Ann Griffiths Level

     With the advantage of hindsight and, often, the absence of a pressing deadline, anthologists won't be affected as much by previous accomplishments.  The focus will usually be where it belongs:  on the individual poem(s).

     Twenty years ago anthologists worked in libraries, buried under a out-of-print books.  In two decades they will all work exclusively at home, using the Internet.  This will tilt the balance in favor of poets with a strong online presence.  Nonsense like gender, region or occupation will not matter but visibility will. 

10 = Perfect           = The T.S. Eliot Level

     There could be as many as one perfect poem written every decade.  We have seen one this century.  We're not just talking T.S. Eliot;  we're talking early Eliot here.  We aren't talking about mere poems;  we're talking about self-contained clinics on poetry.  Editors who receive such a submission can be excused for busting the piggy bank and popping the champagne.³ 

Conclusion:

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #0

     In seeing hundreds, if not thousands, of submissions processed each issue we get the impression that there are far more poets than publishers.  That may be true but there are not more  poems than publishers.  About half of the submissions are Zeroes:  semiliterate gibberish, often from familiar sources.  Of the other half, many are Threes, often from MFA, Creative Writing or English graduates who think diaeresis involves incontinent monkeys.  Most of the rest will be Fours or Fives:  Billy Collins wannabes (for God's sake, why?) or one-trick ponies.  Any 'zine that averages anywhere near a Six per month stands among the three top literary periodicals of our time.  A Seven arrives every few months, an Eight once or twice a year.³  If you get a 9 or better throw a party.  If it's a 10, invite me.

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Footnotes:

¹ - Learning the basics before stepping onstage is certainly the orthodox approach.  However, aside from having more appeal to youth, the instant feedback and scoring we see in slams can be a perfect testing ground.  Ideally, the poet will grow tired of polite, "obligatory" applause² and want to add some techniques that might raise listeners out of their chairs.  In fact, I'm going to make a bold prediction:  The next great poet will begin onstage. 

² - Compare this to print worlders who never tire of blurbers.

³ - The odd thing is that these numbers don't change if the total number of submissions goes from hundreds to thousands.

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Talk is Cheap

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #42

     We could view human history as one long devaluation of words.  In eras and cultures where life expectancy is little more than a generation the only currency is time.  Preserving speech verbatim--a process we call "poetry"--was a significant investment for ancient tribes.  Such words were, as the conquistadors were to discover, regarded by preliterate societies as more precious than any metal or gem.  These recitations were everything to the community:  genealogy, law, literature, history and, while sagas or myths could be passed on through prose, the moment accounts became "The Word of God" they were preserved in verse.      

     The development of writing was as monumental to prosodists as abandoning the gold standard was to economists.  Over time, the distinction between poetry and prose became blurred.  Today, even poets don't bother to memorize their own work or use mnemonics to facilitate others doing so. 

     Because handwriting was so laborious, verse continued to dominate prose.  Both were well out of the average person's budget, though.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #62

     Whether it be the implementation of the Gutenberg press in 1450 or Chinese block printing a millennium earlier, the development of mass publication made words all the more economical and accessible.  Families could now afford to buy a few books, usually starting with a bible and branching out to include writing that might merit rereading.  Even without factoring in religious texts, poetry continued to outsell novels until the advent of cheaper dime store novels and paperbacks in 1839.  Not counting Dr. Seuss, the last poetry volume to eclipse all contemporary novels was Robert Service's "Songs of a Sourdough" in 1907.

     As our environment became more and more verbose the use and popularity of verse continued to decline.  Poetry was dealt its fatal "Et tu, Brute?" wound in the early 1920s, when music became as cheap and easy to disseminate as turning on a radio.  The spoken word could no longer contend with song, music being the "value added" in the public's mind.  True, verses were still being memorized but these were lyrics and, with few exceptions, clearly subordinate to melody.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #95

     While all of this was occurring, newsprint flourished as the most tangible evidence of textual degradation, it being, literally, disposable.  Poetry appeared in every worthwhile magazine and newspaper.  Did pulp and glossies save verse?  Not for long.  It disappeared from the media in the 1950s.

     As cost-free radio and television continue to occupy our air waves and sound space, we have the Internet putting humankind's collective intelligence at our fingertips for free (since we needed to connect anyway in order to get our daily fix of cute kittens and puppies).  Judging from webzine hit counts sophisticated enough to exclude non-human visitors (e.g. bots, spiders, crawlers, etc.), the rate of online readership is only slightly higher than print outlets.  At least the price is right!

     Thus, over a span almost as long as language itself, poetry has gone from something more valued than gold to something we cannot even give away.

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    Your feedback is appreciated!

    Please take a moment to comment or ask questions below or, failing that, mark the post as "funny", "interesting", "silly" or "dull".  Also, feel free to expand this conversation by linking to it on Twitter or Facebook.  Please let us know if you've included us on your blogroll so that we can reciprocate.

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    We look forward to hearing from you.

Signed,

Earl Gray, Esquirrel

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How good a poet are you? - Measuring

     What measuring stick can we use to determine how good we are when Nobody Reads Poetry?

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #158

     My self-serving answer would be "Ask a geek!" but, frankly, there aren't enough of us to matter.  Posting your drafts to Eratosphere, Gazebo or Poetry Free-For-All works only for onliners with rhinoceros skins--again, not a significant demographic.  We could broaden the search to include everyone who teaches poetry, regardless of whether they care about the elements of the craft or not.  However, that will, at best, measure our appeal as "poets' poets" and will not be free of personal and professional concerns.  Ideally, we would have a sizeable objective consumer audience, as all successful endeavors do.  For example, those interested only in literary merit could use bookseller databases to select for sophisticated readers based on whatever else they purchased.  The problem with this is that, aside from the fact that Nobody Reads Poetry, the Tsundoku Law indicates that the number of contemporary poetry volumes read by more than one person is much smaller than the number ignored by the purchaser.

     In the absence of technicians, critics and the public, we are left with close associates and students examining our published work to see what is being accepted.  The latter are not helpful because they aren't reading for quality or pleasure.  To wit, they might be asking themselves:  "How badly do I have to write to be published here?"

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #115

     The population and its ability to access information has mushroomed since poetry died more than half a century ago.  Were it alive today, we would be asking questions such as these:

• To the nearest thousand, how many times was one of your poems quoted today?  (GIYF.)


• To the nearest hundred, how many times was one of your poems plagiarised in toto today?  (GIYF.)


• To the nearest hundred, how many times today did someone ask you for permission to use one of your poems? (GIYF.)


• To the nearest multiple of ten, what percentage of the population can recite your most famous poem, as they can thousands of popular songs?


• When was the last time anyone offered you a 6-digit or larger sum for the rights to one of your poems?


• When was the last time you stumbled upon someone performing your work?


• To the nearest multiple of ten, what percentage of the population can recite your most famous poem, as they can thousands of popular songs?

     With only our circle of friends and family to guide us, how can we tell whether we are the next Maz, grossly underestimating our talent, or are suffering from the Dunning-Kruger effect and need to repeat Scavella's Maxim non-stop for the rest of our lives?  Given the bias our loved ones will share, the results won't be particularly reliable, but here are some helpful signs:

1.  Your followers enjoying some, not all, of your pieces suggests that their focus is on their love of the writing, not just the writer.

2.  Enthusiastic involvement in your promotional efforts, whether you appreciate this "help" or not.

3.  An interest in the art form they would not exhibit otherwise.

     More discouraging signs would include:

1.  Failure to respond to new work that you've sent them.

2.  Failure to ask about new work.

3.  Failure to post or share your poems on Facebook.

4.  Failure to attend your readings/performances.

5.  Failure to mention poetry, especially when the two of you are in public.

     Yet another of the uncountable reasons to perform your work live is that you can see and hear the reaction, if any.  Audiences slumping and looking away during your three minutes of fame and polite applause after it are disappointing.  Listeners sitting bolt upright and returning your gaze are encouraging responses.  Of course, this has drawbacks:  you're still dealing almost exclusively with other poets and it might not be apparent whether it is your words or your delivery that garners praise.

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Links:

1. How good a poet are you?


2. How good a poet are you? - Measuring
   

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    Your feedback is appreciated!

    Please take a moment to comment or ask questions below or, failing that, mark the post as "funny", "interesting", "silly" or "dull".  Also, feel free to expand this conversation by linking to it on Twitter or Facebook.  Please let us know if you've included us on your blogroll so that we can reciprocate.

    If you would like to follow us, contact us confidentially or blog here as "Gray for a Day" please befriend us, "Earl Gray", on Facebook.

    We look forward to hearing from you.

Signed,

Earl Gray, Esquirrel

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