Cornjob was a doozy today. It hit 100 degrees. Nothing like cross-pollinating a thick field of 8 ft high, razor-sharp corn while wearing a sweat diaper. I shouldn't complain. I chose this and it is good for me--somehow. Here are this week's tunes that I sweated it out to:

Beulah When Your Heartstrings Break
Billy Bragg Worker's Playtime
The Futureheads Self-titled
Interpol Turn on the Bright Lights
Matt Sweeney/Bonnie Prince Billy Superwolf
Miighty Flashlight Self-Titled
Pavement Crooked Rain
Red House Painters Songs for a Blue Guitar
Red House Painters Ocean Beach
The Vaselines The Way of the Vaselines
Young MC Stone Cold Rhymin'

On for this weekend: Painting the living room, taking the sister and sister's boyfriend to Nacho Libre, reading #8 mannies, buying M some beers for his birthday, etc.

A and I and maybe G are going to treat ourselves to live Jazz tonight on the lawn on campus. Then I'll need to come back and take care of some po-biz. Lots on the po-biz plate. I'll update you soon.

The second Action Yes is up. I have 3 silly little things in there you could read if you're bored.

A and I are back and getting re-adjusted. I went immediately to the cornfields this morning and managed to overheat and leafcut the mountains right out of me. We both miss them already. We had a killer time. We hiked, floated, karaoked, tented, hung with B, campfired, and ate out. Here are some pics.




On Thursday's hike, we made it to the top of the Hyalite trail, up on top of it all. Our noses we're running and there was snow. We're not in shape or anything. We took a granola bar break about every 15 minutes. You can see G in that tree's shadow.


Me. Hyalite Valley south of Bozeman.


Here's that camping spot I was telling you about. We lucked out. In a folding chair around that fire ring on the left is where some of you got your chapbook submissions read. All of those passed to the next round.


A and G.


G.


A taking in the mountains on our way back home. We went through Teton National Park. This is the range just north of the Tetons.


Somewhere in Yellowstone. Taken from the car. I won't lie to you.


Lil' Buffalo in Yellowstone.


This is a very small chunk of the very large and desolate and wide open Wind River Indian Reservation. It is just east of the Tetons. Very few people live between the Tetons and Casper, WY. When I say very few people, I mean a few Native Americans on this reservation and maybe a smattering of cattle ranchers. It feels so good to be able to breathe out here, where no one else is. But I was a little upset crossing this reservation. There are only 2 billboards. One for the Army. And the other for a Holiday Inn about 100 miles away. It had three attractive white children with huge smiles. Great teeth. Gap-ish outfits. It said "Kids Stay Free". I wanted to spraypaint on it. Maybe the word "White" in front of "Kids."


There are the Tetons in the back. And a moose right in the center.


Z. My Series of Sneaks T.

A and I are in MT. We found a place to tent that is breathtaking--right on Hyalite lake. I'll show you pictures. We took G, our dog, on an 11 mile hike up this mountain that still has its top in tact (you should donate $ for M's b-day). We've eaten at our old haunts and rocked karaoke with B. I warmed it up with Modern English's Melt with You and brought it home with something the cowboys didn't understand, The Killers' Mr. Brightside (remember, my indie rock choices are limited in karaoke MT.) We got out of there before my last turn came up--Dolly Parton's Hard Candy Christmas. That one might have been painful.

Today, we float the mouth of the Missouri, which is much smaller up here than where you are. And tomorrow: another hike somewhere. Then back to the plains/cornfields.

For those of you that submitted mannies to #8, I read many of the 2nd rounders in the most beautiful spot in North America, in front of a fire as the night fell. This may have helped you into the next round.

We got a real kick out of last night's Clean Part. Paula Cisewski, Juliet Patterson, and Sarah Fox were all amazing readers--they all know their poems so well and how they should be read and their banter was spot on. These 3 work so well together, weaving in and out of each other's sets. You should hire them to do your next party.

Sarah and Paula stayed with A and I--they were excellent house guests, so clean and polite. I learned a lot from them about first books, po-biz nuances, etc. Making friends.

You want to see some pictures? I'll show you mine. And you can look at Mathias' too. I look smashing in those.



Paula, Sarah, and Rachel Moritz in Tugboat's alley. Loitering.


James, and new PhD student at Nebraska, Cody. On the right is Sarah, Rachel, and Juliet. Stella Artois and Rasberry Lambics between us all.


Juliet Patterson reading from The Truant Lover.


Paula Cisewski reading from Upon Arrival.


Sarah Fox and Paula reading from Because Why.

Ok. You've waited patiently enough. This is what I've been rocking this week on the cornjob Ipod:

Beastie Boys Check Your Head
CIV Set Your Goals
Dolly Parton Little Sparrow
Eagle*Seagull Eagle*Seagull
The Folk Implosion Dare to be Surprised
The Good Life Album of the Year
Hayden Elk-Lake Serenade
Hayden Skyscraper National Park
Neutral Milk Hotel On Avery Island
Pavement Slanted and Enchanted
Richard Buckner Since
Say Hi to Your Mom Numbers and Numbers
Superchunk Incidental Music 1991-1995
Texas is the Reason Do You Know Who You Are
White Stripes De Stijl
Woody Guthrie Hard Travelin'

And I found the ultimate and perfect and best album for working in the cornfields. This only took about one month to discover: Woody Guthrie's Hard Travelin'. It is so monumentally blue-collar/pro-union/working man/pro-ag-worker/down with Whitey/pro-America/pro-liberty. Thinning corn stalks, etc, with that in my ears makes for a very complete and authentically American experience.

While I'm at it, here's what we're rocking on Netflix:

At Home: (we just finished up a 6 month viewing of all 5 seasons of Six Feet Under)

The Yes Men
The Killing

In the Queue:
Pootie Tang
Young Frankenstein
Coffee and Cigarettes
Mulholland Drive
Mr. Show Season 1 and 2
The Boys of Baraka

Um, what else? Fantasy Baseball: 12th (out of 19) and falling fast.

Um, I'll be at Clean Part on Saturday and a party with the neighbors on Sunday. I can't wait to finally meet you at Clean Part. I'll post some pics of those festivities--then I've lined up a few old pics for you from one of my 1990's nostalgia photo boxes. So, that is what is ahead...for you...at the arc.

Jon Pack has approved or disapproved of the things I needed him to approve or disapprove of today (all the entries for June 12). This really helps. I was a bit on the fence about most of these things, but I am now cleared up.

It is obvious that Jon Pack approves of the Clean Part reading series. Just look at his rad t-shirt. I bet he'll come this Saturday night, all the way from New York. I don't care where you live--you should come too. Clean Part #5 y'all! Poetry from brilliant first-bookers: Paula Cisewski, Juliet Patterson, and Sarah Fox. 7pm. Tugboat.

I (and P and A) just got done painting two rooms in my house. We went with Summer's Tan in the dining Room and Shagreen in the new computer/daybed room (I wonder if my poems will have more green in them now). I hate the color wheel. I'll show you some pics as soon as I can find the camera.

Tony put up some fine personal pics. These make me quite nostalgic. I might have to follow his lead and put up a few of my own later in the week. Anyway, I have no excuses for the one of me. I'd like to say that all the hip guys were wearing their hair that way in '96, but I'm not so sure that is true. So if I were Jon Pack: Thumbs down to the bowl cut--thumbs way up to T and his family.

A few of you have been attempting to spin your musical influence into my cornjob Ipod playlists, but I will not buy what you are selling. While I understand that satanic (and Satan-free) Black Metal, as well as normal metal, can make for a delightful listen, it really has no place in the cornfield like, say, y'allternative. With that said, this week, some of my favorite punkrock has creeped into the mix. It isn't metal, but I can ho a row a lot faster listening to Minor Threat than Low. Here 'tis:

Action Patrol On Patrol
Bonnie Prince Billy I See a Darkness
Built to Spill The Normal Years
Butterglory Rat Tat Tat
Descendents Milo Goes to College
The Elected Sun, Sun, Sun
The Get Up Kids Four Minute Mile
Johnny Cash Folsom Live
Kissing Book Lines and Color
Lifetime Jersey's Best Dancers
Minor Threat Complete Discography
NoFx Liberal Animation
Promise Ring 30 Degrees Everywhere

But the battery ran out by mid-day and I had to resort to carrying on a conversation with my fellow co-workers. I'm not so sure they were too interested in talking to me. I asked them which would be the superior hypothetical new food invention, or the one that they'd rather eat: the donut burrito or the burrito donut. Well, which would you choose? I think the donut burrito would be a superior product. It would be called the Donito.

I wonder if Jon Pack would approve or disapprove of the Donito. Mathias has started a little bloggy blog where Jon Pack approves or disapproves of stuff. This is the new source of all of my opinions. Maybe it could be the new source of all of your opinions too. If so, the two of us could have a conversation but not really have anything to argue about, in a friendly manner.

Only 2 more days of teaching comp at the community college. Then the real summer begins. Full time corn. Digging deep into those Octopus #8 chapmannies (we're almost done with the first round actually). Reading some good books like my new Gabriel Pomerand Saint Ghetto of the Loans and my new Lidija Dimkovska Do Not Awaken Them with Hammers (I can't wait to get my hands on UDP's new Lewis Warsh). Writing down these strange poems in my head. Trip to Montana coming up. Clean Part #5 (Denny made a rad poster for it--I'll post it soon). Lakes. The dog. The dog at the lake. Yardwork. Eating meals on porches. Ahh.

Corn Job

I've been hunched over a keyboard somenights working on a new manny called Scary, No Scary. I think about it constantly, about how I am such a fan of it and how invigorating and powerful it is to have complete control over the creation of a book of poems that I admire as an outside reader. One of its poems is in Typo #8 and a handful more are will be in two new print journals you haven't heard of yet. In fact, they probably aren't ready to be mentioned. So: one is called Same Storm and the other is called Pilot.

Here's the cornjob Ipod playlist I've been rocking this week while digging in the dirt:

Band of Horses' Everything All the Time
Beirut's Gulag Orkestar
Bettie Serveert's Dust Bunnies
The Fall's 50,000 Fall Fans Can't Be Wrong
Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins' Rabbit Fur Coat
Kleenex Girl Wonder's Ponyoak
The Strokes' First Impressions of Earth
Superdrag's Regrettfully Yours
Superchunk's Foolish
Tilly and the Wall's Wild Like Children

Friday night was for Skateboards. Watched the documentary Freedom of Space at the Ross then went to the Tugboat for the arted-up skateboard auction. I was outbid. It was a good night for skateboarding and for raising money for Lincoln's future Skate park. Also a good night for friends. I got to drink alcohol with D-Scmick, M-Cat, Ashville, and B-Rad.

Saturday was for M and J in Ames. Got to watch the Cubs lose again. Went out to eat. Then watched movies. Squid and Whale. Thumbs up to that. Thumbs up to M and J. Thumbs up to Ames.

Sunday was for Spaghetti. Ate it with sister in law. There was also a baby there. This baby is pictured above clinging to A's Octopus Magazine t-shirted torso.

Tomorrow is for Nebraska's Eugene Mahoney State Park.

A tree fell on our lawn that stormy night I was writing poems. They must've been really good poems. We're very lucky the thing didn't come crashing into our living room. Now I finally have a good reason to fire up the chainsaw. I love chainsaws.

Corn job was hard today. 8 hours of pulling up little unhealthy plants from the fields. My whole body is sore. But I'm excited because there is a terrific thunderstorm going on right now. Ideal nighttime weather for reading Kira Henehan's Seven Palms (thank you again Ryan Murphy) and writing pizzoems in the computer room/sunroom room.

Here is what I rocked on my Ipod for those 8 grueling hours. Each band was selected for pace and positive attitude, presented here in the order they were listened to:

Envelopes' Demon
Magnetic Fields' The Wayward Bus and Distant Plastic Trees
Mates of State's Our Constant Concern
Matt Pond PA's Nature of Maps,
Mendoza Line's We're All in this Alone
Jonathan Richman's Best of
The Rentals' The Return of the Rentals,
The Clean's Anthology (skipped around a bit),
Superchunk's On the Mouth
The Weakerthan's Reconstruction Site,
Wolf Parade's Apologies to the Queen Mary
and Beulah's Handsome Western States.

A and I both terribly miss Montana and its mountains. Lincoln is very good to us, but the mountains infected us while we were there and now and I think we have the bug. So we've decided to drop what we're doing for a week in June and head back. We'll tent, bring the dog, hike, float, etc. You have no idea how excited we are for this road trip. Ahh. Here are some of the friends we'll get to breath in again:


This is the lake we'll eat some sandwiches at, high above the valley after a long hike.


These are the hot dogs we'll roast again.


This is the river we'll float. The Gallatin.


A will do this.




Z will do this.


and this.

New Yorkers, there will be dynamite poets reading tomorrow night at Pete's Candy Store. Two of my favs. Two of your favs. Mathias Svalina and Joshua Marie Wilkinson. Get out of your tiny studio apartments to hear them read. Then buy them a moderately priced beer. Hug them around the neck and kick up your feet. They each have strong backs and they can hold your weight.

A and I went to the farm last weekend. Ran around in the cornfield all day and kicked up some dirt. This is what I do to get away from my corn job. Ahh! Corn! Cornfields are even starting to creep their way into my new manuscript.

Here's a pic just for you.

A long day in the fields today. I came home and ran through my sprinklers for a while.

Mathias and I are happy hostesses. Clean Part #4 was awesome. Thank again to Hadara, Josh and Dora, Tugboat, Denny, Kuhl's Diner for the pie, the poetry-hungry crowd, my parents, your parents. Here are some pics:


The welcome table at Clean Part #4. From left to right: bottled water, bowl of peanuts, things to make coffee, raffle tickets for pie. Not pictured: bowl of Octopus and Clean Part buttons.


Hadara Bar-Nadav reading. The missing picture from Mathias' recap.


Jim Galvin came to town to see the reading y'all. That's right. Jim Galvin was at Clean Part not reading. Also: Dora Malech and Joshua Edwards post-reading. Hadara on the right, extending even another hand. All the readers were incredible. Thanks to them. My hand too extends.



D-Schmick and Joey Lynch. The top of the indie art-world food chain. D goes to work for the man tomorrow. Best of luck to him.


I had enough poetry for one night. It was time to get schnookered.


Your 2006 Juniper Prize winner, Michael Dumanis.


Ashley and Mathias. They were very happy all night except for this one millisecond that I happened to capture.