New poem in the Freud issue of blossombones.
Momchik is in town for the month of August, which means that we've finally begun filming the long-awaited DAWN sequel: OLD SUN. Tonight we met a fellow with a hearse and convinced him to shoot a scene with us. Yes, I rode in the hearse. Chalk that up to another never-have-I-ever drink. In my gaudy black wig. Momchik wore a sheet and her signature blond man-wig to be the ghostly version of her usual self. Usual-not-usual self.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
The Silence of Sickness. Zachary C. Bush. Gold Wake Press. 2010. 62 pages.
Bush's "Silence of Sickness" brilliantly presents neo-imagistic happenings against a background of a most surreal "Nebraska." Far from being traditional (really? who would think that?), each poem is understated in the manner of a skin virus, in the manner of the uncountable memory (How many times have you lost your keys since she left?). There is a quietness present in every "lost" action and inaction, a beautiful assemblage of the unspoken elements in life and the moments that remind us of death. Well worth a read and a re-read.