Gwendolyn Albert

 

 

Poet Gwendolyn Albert is editrix of JEJUNE: America Eats Its Young which is probably available in a bookstore within 500 miles of you. Her work has appeared in Exquisite Corpse, House Organ and the online magazines Sour Grapes, Grist, RealPoetik and Room Temperature, as well as in two chapbooks through Norton Coker Press (San Francisco), dogs (1991) and green, green (1992). She and Vincent Farnsworth recently completed a national reading tour in promotion of issue 7 of JEJUNE.

Since its invention in 1993, JEJUNE: america eats its young has conducted its experimental explosions within the huge, sound-absorbing caverns of recent literary history through such notable writers as Lucia Berlin, Eileen Myles, Jules Mann, Jonathan Lethem, Jack Hirschman and Nanos Valaoritis in addition to the work of other upcoming talents. Published in the heart of Europe, the twice-yearly magazine with eye-catching (ouch!) cover art by Mark Neville also runs profane interviews with the likes of Lydia Lunch and Robert Bly, works in translation, fine art, and a section of media revulsion in the form of collage.

Issue number 7 includes a cassette compilation of music by Ukrainian composer Jaroslav Kulikov as well as an in-depth interview with Sergei Myasoyedov, an integral figure in underground music and culture in Eastern Europe since the late 1980's.

 

 

 

reasons to cry November 1 1997

through your unwitting or unwilling behavior you still

can be party to sadism in both its lesser and more extreme

forms. the sadists don't ask permission, they just act

the persecuted do not even feel free enough to act

and when they finally do they become sadists

the whining complaints of a spoiled twenty year old

consumer carry far in the halls of profit

officiousness is a particularly common form of interaction

the thought of a change in my circumstances feels like

a threat to my very survival

the voice of the judge echoes in my head and seems to

come from the mouths of others but it is really an old

tape recording I should erase

the products of isolation and genius do not counteract

a life lived in pain or without love

a life full of love can seem like a life of self-

centeredness or selfishness, how can you tell

the luxury of attending to one's own needs when so many

are needy, the fruitlessness of self-abnegation

the fear of failure, the enormous frustration of needing

others, the emptiness of the money transaction, the joy

of cooperation on a higher level, all too rare

the expectation that sympathy is for sale

the expectation that sympathy is not free

the thousand separate tendrils leading from the heart

to the rest of the world yanked this way and that by

every passing car accident garbage can on fire report

of injustice or man petting his dog, small children

pointing at things mutely

the glory of the world, snakes coiled in a jar of liquor

does the son bear responsibility for the father, the time

when tales of the past strike a dead ear in the young,

the young coming myopic and cloudy-eyed into the world,

easily wounded, and taking the blows of group identity

is the outcome of evil heroism and vice versa

trying to force my will on the world, to create something

that wasn't there before, to keep a record, and all the

while the centrifugal force of doubt, and when it reverses

direction like a spinning toy, the illusory fictive and

gorgeous patterns

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TECHNOLOGY PROVIDES HUMAN SUSTENANCE AND COMFORT

 

preamble:

I address myself

a moment

to the case

of the Red Cross.

In 1943 and

once again in '45

they sent home

positive

reports

on Nazi camps.

For a camp,

it's ok --

18th century grounds,

streets with

names and

children

singing

letters in

from Auschwitz

saying

the same

1)

I was required

to wear a badge

with a photo

at that computer

job in California.

As a member

of the public

I was transported

to a corner

of the freeway

and industrial

park.

 

The cubicle

was similar --

dimensions,

layout, angle

of the light --

to other jobs.

Between parking

lot and walkway

an ornamental

fountain.

2)

One day

a visiting

higher-up

gave a speech

on how she

bought her

Lexus.

Then relief

workers

gave us

free beer.

A Lexus

costs on

average

fifty

thousand

dollars.

I was making

$6.50 an hour.

It cost me $3

to get there

and $3 to get

back. I was

told it would

be

cheaper

if I drove a car

which hypothesis

failed to convince

me I should

be there

at all

the fountain

was lacking

in birds

3)

Meanwhile

in Sri Lanka

visiting

voyeurs

broadcast

mating calls

to flush

the exotic thrush

thus disrupting

its reproductive

cycle

the president

of Sri Lanka,

on visiting

them for

the first time,

called for an

industrial

park

Where is your home?

most often

asked in prison.

4)

I remember

several women

from that

computer job.

One had a daughter

and one had good sex

and one was

frightened of

her father-in-law

with whom she

had to live because

her husband didn't

want to rent.

When alone

she would lock

herself in

the bedroom.

I told her

to move,

then I quit.

5)

Imagine

you are working

for the Red Cross.

Instead of

tortured suffering

there is opera.

The sensation

of relief

is enormous

you write

a positive

report

6)

yes for an oil derrick

it's ok

it's the cleanest oil

derrick I've ever

seen and for a

strip mine, that's

not bad either

and hell

Coca Cola

poured down a

storm drain

is toxic so

what do you

want?

7)

This poem is based on

actual conversation

events places

documented fact.

Its composition

is freely determined

solely by the author

with the aim of

existing

newly created

where it did not

exist before

to the benefit

of variety

in the universe

in which you

the reader

are a similar

creation

existing

albeit under

less than

ideal

conditions:

Sustenance

and comfort

shouldn't cost

you your

sustenance

and comfort.

Thank you

for reading

this poem.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

economic power

Producer distributor good or service

loan shark war profiteer all toil

to survive in a world of blooming lilacs

pigeons dandelions icebergs

the Sauvignon grape and globes of glass

silverfish earwigs seismic rifts

silkworms, little white daisies turning

pink, the sweep of cirrus clouds

the Doppler effect, the fennel seed

basil, mustard and olives

tenderness towards the very young

the very sick the slow the old

or for no reason. Algae, tobacco

bacteria viruses poppy seeds

plums, the softness of flour

cornstarch, baking powder

honey, wax the space between

the candle and the flame.

Vitreous waves of the sea.

Adrenaline, sunshine, tears

from laughing, hair that

curls and lips and breasts

strong hands the tickle the itch

the pleasant way the tree

grows up from the ground

to the sky. All that lives and dies

reasserts itself down here with us

a castle moat overgrown with green

on a world patrolled by satellite.

 

 

Gwendolyn Albert

1997