Elaine Equi (my wife!) has a new book of poems that's just out now from the very cool Coffee House Press. It's called Click and Clone. Since I'm obviously biased in its favor, here's what two distinguished poets have to say about it:
"Elaine Equi seems to know all our foibles and, instead of edging toward the door, reports the latest developments with precise, loving equanimity. Her voice is unique: poised, witty, intimate, and somehow interstellar. It's as if she's visiting from a future where we all appear transparent. Click and Clone is an electrified pleasure field." -- Aram Saroyan
"Spick and span, cut and dry, shake and bake, and now Elaine Equi introduces Click and Clone. These poetically altered texts punch wholes into the multiverses of pop and splendor, short and longing, prose and dreams. Equi says that art can no longer imitate life, it just needs to keep up. As they might say at the racetrack, she leads by a verse." -- Charles Bernstein
And now, for a sampler from the book itself. Here are four of its "interstellar" poems. Enjoy!
Stendahl claimed he held a mirror to nature.
Like Flaubert, many readers of Madame Bovary exclaimed: "C'est Moi!"
Once reality was dumb and brutish --
in need of art for elevation.
But it's changed --
grown baroque and multifaceted.
Today we can no longer take reality for granted.
Now art is the simpleton.
Led Zeppelin Revision
That stairway only leads halfway to heaven.
Everybody Has Dreams
Last night, the cook dreamt a giant mouth dribbling blood
or ketchup. He has trouble relating to women.
The woman in the beige pantsuit dreamt of a computer that
transports objects into the future.
The woman by the window was a little girl holding her mother's
The guy near the door followed a melody into a forest.
The busboy was driving a sports car fast.
The skinny girl was a military general in a country ruled by a giant
The waitress murdered somebody. Even now, she looks guiltily
over her shoulder as she wipes the silverware clean.
Cast of Characters
Jerome, a poet with light brown hair and glasses
Elaine, a poet with medium brown hair and contact lenses
Martine, a poet with dark brown hair and glasses
Jerome: Pyrokinesis is when you look at a person and
they burst into flames.
Elaine: I'm the opposite. I look at a person and I burst
Martine: When I look at a person, they turn into water.
Jerome: I try to avoid looking at people.