Cami Park

Posts Tagged ‘Dairy’

No Tell Books: God Damsel, by Reb Livingston

In Opinion, Poetry, Religion on September 3, 2010 at 6:48 pm

You withstood distance, you cannot withstand bareness.
Reb Livingston, from THE DEATH OF WOE-DODO

God Damsel, by Reb Livingston

God Damsel is a religion constructed, deconstructed, and then reconstructed by Reb Livingston in 121 Prophecies, Litanies, Spells, Hymns, Proverbs, Laments, Chronicles, and other poetics.  At Poetry Instigator last October, Reb described God Damsel as a collection of “translations of translations of religious texts,” defining her translation process as “whatever my mind churned out,” and her mind churns out some amazing and inventive butter– Reb Livingston does things to language that probably should not be discussed in polite conversation:

Lament for Forfeited Details

revealed . . .
. . . of slumscored . . . Gigolo . . . . . . . . mauled his
seebitty snout . . . yanked her buttery seabangs . . .
abdicate this fucktruce!

This is a collection in which structure matters; the book is constructed in such a way that the mythology develops and matures as figures such as Damsel, Woe-Dodo, Fishyman, Czarina, Apron, Gigolo,  Shepherd and GOURD are introduced, allowing the language, the humor, the pure lyricism and imagination of the individual works to carry the reader, as collectively they add up to  a complete, resonant mythology.

I am enthralled by and in awe of this work– God Damsel is innovative and utterly fearless in its treatment of language, yet completely accessible, and funny as hell. A superb accomplishment.

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This is the kind of bullshit you want

In Photography, Poetry, Prose on January 27, 2010 at 9:29 pm

freshness guaranteed

FRiGG‘s Law & Order Issue is ripped straight from the television and filled to bursting with lurid, inventive fiction and poetry from folks like Arlene Ang, Roxane Gay, Heather Austin, Sean Farragher, Kuzhali Manickavel, Tim Jones-Yelvington, and Dave Clapper, plus absolutely insane photography from Didi Wood. It is the kind of bullshit you want. You know you do.

The dogmouth sky

In Art, Music, Poetry on January 7, 2010 at 12:01 am

Henry Darger

[clearspring_widget title=”Grooveshark Widget: Single Song” wid=”48f3f305ad1283e4″ pid=”4b45677411a34763″ width=”300″ height=”75″ domain=”widgets.clearspring.com”]

Also, eggs

In How to, List, Poetry on November 29, 2009 at 7:29 pm

Tap to Crack

Brulees
Ice-covered snow
Emergency glass
Facades

Comfortable

In Household, Nutrition, Photography on October 10, 2009 at 5:37 pm

BEFORE I DIE I WANT TO . . . a polaroid project by nicole kenney and ks rives

Pete Jones’s Canadian Bacon Pizza
Cami Park

1 12-inch unbaked pizza crust
1 cup pizza sauce
2/3 cup mozzarella cheese
6 oz chopped Canadian bacon
1/2 cup thinly sliced mushrooms
1 small green or red bell pepper, seeded and sliced
1/2 tsp crushed dried oregano
1/2 tsp crushed dried basil
crushed red pepper flakes

Get off the couch. Shuffle into the kitchen. Read note on refrigerator, and gather together pizza crust, pizza sauce, hunk of mozzarella cheese, package of Canadian bacon, pint of mushrooms, and oregano, basil, and red pepper flakes. Take forever to find the damn pepper. Wonder if a yellow one would have been okay too.

Read recipe again. Pick up cheese and put it down again. Read package of Canadian bacon. Try to figure out how to get 6 oz from the 10 oz package. Open it up and eat some. Sigh heavily. Poke at the mushrooms. They look dirty. Pick up the damn pepper and turn it over and over again in your hand. What the hell is seeded?

Stare dumbly at it all for a moment. Call Domino’s.

Prep time: 1 hour. Feeds Pete.

previously published in Forklift, Ohio

Girl World

In Film, Poetry, Prose on August 28, 2009 at 7:52 pm

I have a thing up at Staccato Fiction. I’m glad they’re back and publishing again.

I did a remix of my past 16 blog post titles, and Crispin Best did, too. He might post his later. Here’s mine:

Japanese postcards of the Russo-Japanese War

Girl World

These chalk moon lashes
These dusty pomegranate dead
These giant heart clouds
mammatus
alive

for you
for the other you
good little librarian head
awake
reassured
hiding whatever fainted fragmentary things
in ironic Saturday milk.

Might as well milk it

In Art, Philosophy, Poetry on August 27, 2009 at 12:02 am

Kangaroo
by Cami Park (me)

If I were a kangaroo
I’d have to draw the line
somewhere,
like at beer commercials,
sharing trailers with koala bears,
or writing poetry for money.

Thompson Yulidjirri

Thompson Yulidjirri

Otherwise,
I’d be a downright whore.
Might as well milk it,
I’d say.

A good Saturday

In Poetry, Prose, T-shirt on August 15, 2009 at 1:15 am

Okay, so The Collagist opened today, and it looks great and has great writing (I particularly liked the particular poem Autumn Scene as Lullaby, by Oliver de la Paz), which is all well and good.

But Saturday is Abjective day, and Eric Beeny‘s story this week, Milk Like a Melted Ghost,  is no exception. To being a story in Abjective on Saturday, I mean. Another one that makes me realize how original combinations of words and sentences and paragraphs can be.  An example: Little yellow birds flew out of their shells, she fell to her knees, the birds flying around her head, a locked cage. This image is going to be flying around my head for some time, I think.

Something else, though– Kim Chinquee has 3 stories in The Collagist, one of which very coincidentally has a connection with Eric Beeny’s Abjective story. I won’t say exactly what, because I don’t want to spoil anyone.  Hint: it rhymes with “laceless Roman.”

Source Creative

What if a whisk

In Art, Household, Poetry on July 31, 2009 at 12:03 am
Phillip Toledano

Phillip Toledano

Manic Whisk

Let me out of this drawer–

I don’t belong here in this rabble
of misunderstood gadgets, spatulas,
and sad, hopeful corkscrews.

I am an artist–

Free me, and I will whip
heaping mountains of cream,
beat eggs within a living inch,
create meringues the likes of which
would have driven Van Gogh to burn
his precious Sunflowers. Picasso at
his most cubistic has nothing on me,
my arcs and twirls and brilliant frothing mounds.

This darkness is not worthy of me–

Dali weeps.

Gold star

In Confessional, Entertaining, How to on July 4, 2009 at 5:32 am

Ladies Who Launch

I slept last night, and made no major mistakes yesterday.  So, gold star for me.

Today is the day we celebrate our freedom by making Jello Poke Cake.  Below is a recipe, adapted for patriotism.

Patriotic cake

Patriotic Poke Cake

White cake — that’s it, just a white cake. Any old white cake. Being, a cake that’s white.
Another white cake— see above.
1 large box of Strawberry Jello [tm] — Make sure it’s large.
I large box of blue jello — make sure it’s blue.
4 cups water
Vanilla pudding
Milk
Cool Whip

Make a white cake, according to the directions on the box. Because, I guess, that’s the only way to make a white cake. Then, make another one.
While the cake is still hot, poke holes in it with the handle of a wooden spoon (no other utensil will work for these holes, do NOT fool around!)
Do it again with the other one.
Dissolve Jello in 2 cups boiling water (each), and pour over cake. Leave no part of the cake uncovered. The cake should no longer be white at the end of this procedure.
Pour red jello over one cake, and blue over the other.
Let the cake cool while you make vanilla pudding. Somehow.
There’s probably a box or something, like with the cake.
Maybe you’ll need more pudding. Another box or something.

Okay, here’s the best part– get ready–

COVER THE ENTIRE CAKE WITH PUDDING
COVER THE OTHER ENTIRE CAKE WITH PUDDING

Stack cakes on top of each other.

And the second best part:

COVER IT ALL WITH COOL WHIP.

Et voila.

I got this from Julia Child.