I received today, from my friend Stephen Ellis, Oasia Broadside #105, which being a short work called "Athlete" by Stephen himself. I say friend in sentence 1, but I haven't heard much from him. periodically, Beth rouses me to call him (I don't do phones much, which is no excuse). he's been living in the part of Ohio where, I gather, no one lives. near West Virginia, where I have witnessed serious scantness of population. now he lives in Vermont, where, I believe, he was born. and so I go on, too late to make this story short. I just want to take this opportunity to point to Stephen's work. I really like it. back in the olden days, which is to say the year 2000 or so, Jordan Davis had an email list called Subsubpoetics. being a place to go if you weren't still infatuated with the Poetics list. for a while it was lively and generating. I recollect Jordan, Stephen, Henry (as in Gould), Nada (as in Gordon), Kent (as in wow, that guy), Gabe (as in Gudding), a bumptious visit by David Hess, I'm missing names of course, and even myself posting variously, and some good (I mean all of the posters). Stephen could be counted on, a very certainty, when and if. never frivolous, Stephen, always pointed, and also, you know, there's a poetry. alas the list hit crit mass, as does everything, and all that (sound familiar?), but I fondly remember. after some correspondence back in oh 1999, Stephen asked for some poems from me for his Broadside Series. well jinkies, the last time I'd been published was in 1972, in This 3. so much for career moves, but it don't matter no how. and I've plainly said my debt. Stephen is a terrific poet, would you take the time to find out? I would ask, in the interest of interest, and poetry, and whatever noble people do, to write to Stephen at:

71 Elmwood Avenue, apt 15
Burlington VT 05401

and request copies of his broadside, and ask about his backlist. backlist is crammed with names that you know. and it is an effort from the hinterlands, allowing that hinterlands exist. no, really. I am not against poetry scenes, but there are poetry not seens as well. hello, is this microphone working? and the point here is to point to the lucidities possible in a swerving language. here, then, is the 1st poem of the collected 12:

ORDER

My poems anymore aren't about anything
which is to say only they have become inevitable

falls into time. It just happens that way. The art
is stepping aside for the meaningless refrain

to complete itself. With interference
from the outside bleeding in. An internal

set-up for zones of heaven in leafy shade
made that much miore un-natural for the beauty of

their artifice. Things are what they are
supposed to be. Novel, if nothing else.

* * * * *

notice thinking, distributing, aligning, balancing, measure. I'm not a critical writer, sorry. I'm not scrivening with poise. I am amidst excitement. I think this is a writer of attention and collection. I am totally interested, but still ask that you look.