Where Are They Now? Lost Poets of the 70s: Smoking Sam Cornish
For those of you reloading the page every few seconds in anxious anticipation, here it is: this week's installation of Where are they now? Lost Poets of the 70s! The font came out a bit small today, so click on the image for your reading/fashion enjoyment.
We admire Mr. Cornish's suit--we really do, and his hairstyle has endured better than most of his 70s counterparts (certainly better than Marvin Bell or Thomas Brush). But man, what's that dude smoking in this picture? Check out those eyes ...
His poem isn't as bizarre as our last installation, but it does feature a thirteen-year-old "wondering if he had the special knowledge / that women wanted from men / endured the pain she moaned / the odor between her breasts" Pew... I wonder what Agent Trochee's gonna say about this one.
posted by Snark @ 5:27 PM
16 Comments:
well I'm glad to see that you don't just snark white poets. i was beginning to doubt your commitment to "equal opportunity snark"
When I Want to write
A Poem I just
Break up my prose into lines
Like my professor
told me and add lots of detail
Which I am not doing here
Sometimes I just like a large list
Of things I saw
Common Things that take on a mystery
When juxtaposed together
Like Delilio
Sometime I tell a story without
a point and that makes it
real profound
Got to add a few obscure words
That foreign language requisite
It is a Good thing. Latin too.
Do you know what is the difference
Between gibberish and modern poetry
Nobody signs their name to gibberish
I have a suspicion that those who snark here, and hide behind their less than clever aliases, do so because they write the same mediocre garbage, and are intent on submitting to the same mediocre publications so that their real names will be next to the other hacks.
Yeah, your alias is really clever, "anonymous"
Some people seem not to understand what the word "snark" means.
he probably wouldn't be appropriate for your "where are they now" posts, but something needs to be said about the god-awful crap that Bill Knott writes... he's an assistant professor at Emerson College...
Here's an example from his book, Laugh at the End of the World...
EN PASSANT
While orbiting
the earth
at a height of one millimeter
I notice
it tickles.
That's a big spliff for one person, Mr. Cornish! Hope the photographer is getting in on it.
i thought it was a blue turd
What do you mean by "visually represent myself." That's a photograph.
zing!!
go away, dark dorothy. that BK poem rules.
Sam Cornish teaches at Emerson College and is insane, and useless as a professor. I had him as a teacher, so this anthology got him somewhere.
And Bill Knott rules.
white dude passing as a black man? is that funny? well, he ain't lost, obviously. And Bill Knott is also insane, if you want good snark get his latest book...
Still spinn'in on borrowed skin,
Yuppies lie on how ya Live
Elder Grey
like the Tea
not quite Zen
Tell me cousin
How has your Real - ality
Really been?
What an incredible collection of idiots this site attracts. I know both Bill Knott and Sam Cornish, as teachers and writers. Bill Knott was actually said by Sonic Youth to be their favorite poet. You are all so unclever and not talented that you set about attacking those that really are.
Sam Cornish rips hard, for a chick.
Sam Cornish was one of my fave professors at Emerson.
And not just cuase he used to take us out for drinks at the Tam either.
I took 3 classes with him.
he always called me by my initials.
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