is the Love Child of Robert Hayden and Federico García Lorca.
About Me
- Eduardo C. Corral
- Eduardo C. Corral is a CantoMundo fellow. He holds degrees from ASU and the Iowa Writers' Workshop. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Beloit Poetry Journal, jubilat, New England Review, Ploughshares, Poetry, and Post Road. His work has been honored with a "Discovery"/The Nation award and residencies from The MacDowell Colony and Yaddo. He has served as the Olive B. O'Connor Fellow in Creative Writing at Colgate University and as the Philip Roth Resident in Creative Writing at Bucknell University. He's the interview editor for Boxcar Poetry Review. He won the 2011 Yale Series of Younger Poets competition.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Disturbing But Clever (Thanks Anon!)
Scroll down and click on the thumbnails of Nick Flynn, Mark Doty and Susan Wheeler. Those are the only writers I recognize. Anymore?
A Recent Fave
In Biruté's Camp
Suppose God is looking for a good
piece, who could be you with that bare
strip of scalp parting your long hair,
braided loose and looped up in the swamp heat,
sweat curling around your small, bristly eyebrows,
your hands gleaming with juice and pulp
as you hammer fruit on the feeding platform.
That strange orangutan,
the human-raised one called Pan-gan,
who throws men off the dock
like an overzealous baptizer, may
be a god and here he comes
padding side to side onto your platform in the swamp.
If he curves the ridiculous length of his
tendon-riddledarms around your waist
and wrestles you down to the wooden boards,
scream–he'sbitingyouhe'stryingtokillyou–no,
he's pushing up your skirt–
become limp below the waist and make your torso
a flexible branch for him to squeeze
as he swivels from one world to the next;
(now he is very calm and deliberate,
now his eyes roll upward)
When he finally moves off
the feeding platform and into the trees,
rise into this loss, which is relief:
his seed will shimmer out of you, unrecognized.
from Maria Melendez's How Long She'll Last in This World
Suppose God is looking for a good
piece, who could be you with that bare
strip of scalp parting your long hair,
braided loose and looped up in the swamp heat,
sweat curling around your small, bristly eyebrows,
your hands gleaming with juice and pulp
as you hammer fruit on the feeding platform.
That strange orangutan,
the human-raised one called Pan-gan,
who throws men off the dock
like an overzealous baptizer, may
be a god and here he comes
padding side to side onto your platform in the swamp.
If he curves the ridiculous length of his
tendon-riddledarms around your waist
and wrestles you down to the wooden boards,
scream–he'sbitingyouhe'stryingtokillyou–no,
he's pushing up your skirt–
become limp below the waist and make your torso
a flexible branch for him to squeeze
as he swivels from one world to the next;
(now he is very calm and deliberate,
now his eyes roll upward)
When he finally moves off
the feeding platform and into the trees,
rise into this loss, which is relief:
his seed will shimmer out of you, unrecognized.
from Maria Melendez's How Long She'll Last in This World
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Dear Amanda,
Your blog rocks. I read it everyday. I'm also very taken with your poems. Like this one. And this one. I love it when you post photographs. Are you a party girl? I bet you are. I really like your shiny blouses. You have a lot of handsome male friends. Who is that gorgeous man in the green shirt at your graduation party?
People might think I'm brown-nosing just to get into Pebble Lake Review, the journal you edit. I don't have any ulterior motives! I don't submit to online/print journals edited by fellow bloggers.
I hope this letter doesn't freak you out. I freak out when complete strangers send me "fan" emails. Once a guy gushed about my work in his email. I was touched. We all want readers, right? A week later he sent another email but this time he attached a photograph of himself--naked. I won't be sending you naked pics of me, Amanda. I promise.
All the Best,
Eduardo
People might think I'm brown-nosing just to get into Pebble Lake Review, the journal you edit. I don't have any ulterior motives! I don't submit to online/print journals edited by fellow bloggers.
I hope this letter doesn't freak you out. I freak out when complete strangers send me "fan" emails. Once a guy gushed about my work in his email. I was touched. We all want readers, right? A week later he sent another email but this time he attached a photograph of himself--naked. I won't be sending you naked pics of me, Amanda. I promise.
All the Best,
Eduardo
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
Thursday, May 25, 2006
New Crush: Jimmy Santiago Baca
Black Warrior Review:Fiction and Poetry Contests
First Place Winner in each category will receive
$1,000 and Publication in Spring 2007!
Guest Judges this year are Denise Duhamel (poetry) and Steve Tomasula
(fiction).
Send your entry to:
Fiction Contest OR Poetry Contest
Black Warrior Review
Box 862936
Tuscaloosa, AL 35486
Black Warrior Review
$1,000 and Publication in Spring 2007!
Guest Judges this year are Denise Duhamel (poetry) and Steve Tomasula
(fiction).
Send your entry to:
Fiction Contest OR Poetry Contest
Black Warrior Review
Box 862936
Tuscaloosa, AL 35486
Black Warrior Review
LOCUSPOINT: Call for Submissions
Calling all Chicago poets.
If you live in Chicago, please submit 3-5 poems (no more than 15 pages)
directly to the Chicago Guest Editor (Francesco Levato,
flevato(at)inkandashes.com--replace (at) with @).
Submissions should be sent as Word document
attachments in a common font like Times New Roman, Garamond, etc. We accept
only previously unpublished work; simultaneous submissions are welcomed as
long as the author notifies the Managing Editor as soon as it is accepted
elsewhere. Please put LOCUSPOINT submission in the email subject line.
Submission deadline: June 30th 2006
LOCUSPOINT
If you live in Chicago, please submit 3-5 poems (no more than 15 pages)
directly to the Chicago Guest Editor (Francesco Levato,
flevato(at)inkandashes.com--replace (at) with @).
Submissions should be sent as Word document
attachments in a common font like Times New Roman, Garamond, etc. We accept
only previously unpublished work; simultaneous submissions are welcomed as
long as the author notifies the Managing Editor as soon as it is accepted
elsewhere. Please put LOCUSPOINT submission in the email subject line.
Submission deadline: June 30th 2006
LOCUSPOINT
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Objects and Apparitions
Hexagons of wood and glass,
scarcely bigger than a shoe box,
with room in them for night and all it's lights.
Monuments to every moment,
refuse of every moment, used:
cages for infinity.
Marbles, buttons, thimbles, dice,
pins, stamps, and glass beads:
tales of time.
Memory weaves, unweaves the echoes:
in the four corners of the box
shadowless ladies play at hide and seek.
Fire buried in the mirror,
water sleeping in the agate:
solos of Jenny Colonne and Jenny Lind.
"One has to commit a painting," said Degas,
"the way one commits a crime." But you contructed
boxes where things hurry away from their names.
Slot machine of visions,
condensation flask for conversations,
hotel of crickets and constellations.
Minimal, incoherent fragments:
the opposite of History, creator of ruins,
out of your ruins you have made creations.
Theater of the spirits:
objects putting the laws
of identity through hoops.
The "Grand Hotel de la Couronne": in a vial,
the three of clubs and, very surprised,
Thumbelina in gardens of reflections.
A comb is a harp strummed by the glance
of a little girl
born dumb.
The reflector of the inner eye
scatters the spectacle:
God all alone above an extinct world.
The apparitions are manifest,
their bodies weigh less than light,
lasting as this phrase lasts.
Joseph Cornell: inside your boxes
my words became visible for a moment.
Octavio Paz
scarcely bigger than a shoe box,
with room in them for night and all it's lights.
Monuments to every moment,
refuse of every moment, used:
cages for infinity.
Marbles, buttons, thimbles, dice,
pins, stamps, and glass beads:
tales of time.
Memory weaves, unweaves the echoes:
in the four corners of the box
shadowless ladies play at hide and seek.
Fire buried in the mirror,
water sleeping in the agate:
solos of Jenny Colonne and Jenny Lind.
"One has to commit a painting," said Degas,
"the way one commits a crime." But you contructed
boxes where things hurry away from their names.
Slot machine of visions,
condensation flask for conversations,
hotel of crickets and constellations.
Minimal, incoherent fragments:
the opposite of History, creator of ruins,
out of your ruins you have made creations.
Theater of the spirits:
objects putting the laws
of identity through hoops.
The "Grand Hotel de la Couronne": in a vial,
the three of clubs and, very surprised,
Thumbelina in gardens of reflections.
A comb is a harp strummed by the glance
of a little girl
born dumb.
The reflector of the inner eye
scatters the spectacle:
God all alone above an extinct world.
The apparitions are manifest,
their bodies weigh less than light,
lasting as this phrase lasts.
Joseph Cornell: inside your boxes
my words became visible for a moment.
Octavio Paz
Monday, May 22, 2006
Thirteen Things About Me That Are "Weird."
from Lorna
1. Tornadoes turn me on.
2. Each time I kissed my girlfriend in high school, I closed my eyes and pretended she was Harrison Ford.
3. I once dressed up as a sombrero for a class halloween party.
4. I love to eat Doritos drenched in tabasco hot sauce and lemon juice.
5. Sometimes I use my teeth to trim my toenails.
6. I don't like compound words.
7. My first celebrity crush: David Letterman.
8. I'm worried about my lack of faith. I want to believe in G-d. I really do. Sometimes I think I do.
9. In seventh grade, in front of all my buddies, I unexpectedly farted and then whispered, Excuse me, I just queifed.
10. It took me about ten years to learn how to pronounce "Massachusetts" correctly.
11. I like Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.
12. I have a teddy bear.
13. The first boy who kissed me was also the first boy who called me a faggot.
1. Tornadoes turn me on.
2. Each time I kissed my girlfriend in high school, I closed my eyes and pretended she was Harrison Ford.
3. I once dressed up as a sombrero for a class halloween party.
4. I love to eat Doritos drenched in tabasco hot sauce and lemon juice.
5. Sometimes I use my teeth to trim my toenails.
6. I don't like compound words.
7. My first celebrity crush: David Letterman.
8. I'm worried about my lack of faith. I want to believe in G-d. I really do. Sometimes I think I do.
9. In seventh grade, in front of all my buddies, I unexpectedly farted and then whispered, Excuse me, I just queifed.
10. It took me about ten years to learn how to pronounce "Massachusetts" correctly.
11. I like Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.
12. I have a teddy bear.
13. The first boy who kissed me was also the first boy who called me a faggot.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Friday, May 19, 2006
Is That an Elephant In Your Pants?
Cornshake and D have started up a blog devoted to their India trip. Yeah!
Alicia/Richard
Alicia Gaspar de Alba has won a Lambda Literary Award for her mystery Desert Blood: The Juárez Murders.
Richard Siken won in male poetry for Crush.
Congrats!
Richard Siken won in male poetry for Crush.
Congrats!
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Bits
I was this close to using the term Heteroglossia as the title for my newest poem. Yikes!
*
Richard Hatch gets four years in jail. I bet he drops the soap.
*
Don't forget about the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry First Book Award:
A first book of poems will be selected for publication from an open
competition of manuscripts POSTMARKED MAY 15, 2006 through JULY 1,
2006. (Since this is a postmark deadline, there is no need to send
Express Mail, Fedex, or UPS. First Class or Priority Mail are preferred.) Manuscripts should be 50-75 pages of original poetry, in English,
by a U.S. citizen or permanent resident who has neither published,
nor committed to publish, a volume of poetry 48 pages or more in
length in an edition of over 500 copies* (individual poems may have
been previously published). (*Current students and employees of
Southern Illinois University and authors published by Southern
Illinois University Press are not eligible.) The winner will
receive a publication contract with Southern Illinois University
Press, and will be awarded a $1000 prize. The winner will also
receive $1500 as an honorarium for a reading at Southern Illinois
University at Carbondale.
*
Congrats on your graduation, Julie!
*
I miss Diana's posts. I even miss The Donkey.
*
Three poems: Aaron Smith.
*
Every new poem is like finding a new bride. Words are so erotic; they never
tire of their coupling.
Stanley Kunitz
*
I'm behind on buying books by bloggers. I need to buy these soon:
Becoming the Villainess
A Mnemonic for Desire
*
I'm moving back to Arizona in June.
*
Bones: Sheryl Luna.
*
Post Road is a good journal. Submit.
*
Richard Hatch gets four years in jail. I bet he drops the soap.
*
Don't forget about the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry First Book Award:
A first book of poems will be selected for publication from an open
competition of manuscripts POSTMARKED MAY 15, 2006 through JULY 1,
2006. (Since this is a postmark deadline, there is no need to send
Express Mail, Fedex, or UPS. First Class or Priority Mail are preferred.) Manuscripts should be 50-75 pages of original poetry, in English,
by a U.S. citizen or permanent resident who has neither published,
nor committed to publish, a volume of poetry 48 pages or more in
length in an edition of over 500 copies* (individual poems may have
been previously published). (*Current students and employees of
Southern Illinois University and authors published by Southern
Illinois University Press are not eligible.) The winner will
receive a publication contract with Southern Illinois University
Press, and will be awarded a $1000 prize. The winner will also
receive $1500 as an honorarium for a reading at Southern Illinois
University at Carbondale.
*
Congrats on your graduation, Julie!
*
I miss Diana's posts. I even miss The Donkey.
*
Three poems: Aaron Smith.
*
Every new poem is like finding a new bride. Words are so erotic; they never
tire of their coupling.
Stanley Kunitz
*
I'm behind on buying books by bloggers. I need to buy these soon:
Becoming the Villainess
A Mnemonic for Desire
*
I'm moving back to Arizona in June.
*
Bones: Sheryl Luna.
*
Post Road is a good journal. Submit.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Confession
Something happened to me at MacDowell. Something unexpected and troubling. I developed crushes on white men. Really white men. White as mayo. There was one composer in his 30s who had me dreaming naughty things. His name began with the letter "D." He wore glasses. Let me repeat: he wore glasses. Not hipster glasses. No. He wore I-am-a-high-school-history-teacher glasses. He was Irish Catholic. Hey, that's almost Mexican! But he was sweet. He had a nice smile. I really liked the chest hair that poked out from the top of his shirts. I really had a thing for him. Each time I saw him I giggled. Okay, did I just type that? Wow. Hard times. Unfortunately, he was married. To a woman. How quaint!
The other colonists made fun of my crush. Yeah, I'm talking to you, Sean. And Emily. And Paula. And Mark. But I couldn't help it. There was something about him that made my heart skip a beat, that made my panties bunch up. I just had a terrible thought. What if he's reading this? Maybe I should delete this post? Naw. My crush was harmless. I don't think he even noticed. I'm subtle. Like like an earthquake. OMG! He might be reading this! I'm going to end this post right here.
The other colonists made fun of my crush. Yeah, I'm talking to you, Sean. And Emily. And Paula. And Mark. But I couldn't help it. There was something about him that made my heart skip a beat, that made my panties bunch up. I just had a terrible thought. What if he's reading this? Maybe I should delete this post? Naw. My crush was harmless. I don't think he even noticed. I'm subtle. Like like an earthquake. OMG! He might be reading this! I'm going to end this post right here.
At Doug's
The Austin summer sidewalks are starry ribbons
of sparkle; by night, hot dull tongues rolled out.
I loiter at your back screen like a neighborhood
boy asking if another can come out to play.
Colt skittish, at your sink, you greet me
and, after grazing my cheek with an air kiss,
you invite me to sit at the table and have a cup
of tea. You are lean and tan. Your chest
is covered with hair. The definition
beneath your shirt glistens in the heat.
A no-holds-barred overture for sex
would make you less nervous, but is not
my style. I ask for honey with my tea.
You chalk my simple assertions up to vanity
and the swagger of youth; would prefer
my provincial edges knocked away, would
prefer the reek of harsher experience. I get
the soap and suggest we bathe. Outside,
we take turns holding the garden hose.
The other soaps and either curls his face
down, submitting to the water, or arches
his throat and gasping face out and back.
Resistance washed away, you reluctantly,
give up and grant me one more night.
Scott Hightower from MiPOesias.
of sparkle; by night, hot dull tongues rolled out.
I loiter at your back screen like a neighborhood
boy asking if another can come out to play.
Colt skittish, at your sink, you greet me
and, after grazing my cheek with an air kiss,
you invite me to sit at the table and have a cup
of tea. You are lean and tan. Your chest
is covered with hair. The definition
beneath your shirt glistens in the heat.
A no-holds-barred overture for sex
would make you less nervous, but is not
my style. I ask for honey with my tea.
You chalk my simple assertions up to vanity
and the swagger of youth; would prefer
my provincial edges knocked away, would
prefer the reek of harsher experience. I get
the soap and suggest we bathe. Outside,
we take turns holding the garden hose.
The other soaps and either curls his face
down, submitting to the water, or arches
his throat and gasping face out and back.
Resistance washed away, you reluctantly,
give up and grant me one more night.
Scott Hightower from MiPOesias.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Long Distance II
Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.
You couldn't just drop in. You had to phone.
He'd put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime.
He couldn't risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he'd hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she'd just popped out to get the tea.
I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven't both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there's your name
and the disconnected number I still call.
Tony Harrison
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.
You couldn't just drop in. You had to phone.
He'd put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime.
He couldn't risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he'd hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she'd just popped out to get the tea.
I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven't both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there's your name
and the disconnected number I still call.
Tony Harrison
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Erasures
Mary Ruefle's new book A Little White Shadow was composed by "selectively painting over much of a forgotten nineteenth-century book." Interesting, no?
Wave Books has set up a pretty cool page where one can practice erasure. In fact, Joe Massey has already created an erasure for Anthony Robinson. How sweet. They would make a hot gay couple. Hot and hairy!
Wave Books has set up a pretty cool page where one can practice erasure. In fact, Joe Massey has already created an erasure for Anthony Robinson. How sweet. They would make a hot gay couple. Hot and hairy!
Boxcar Poetry Review
The new installment of Boxcar Poetry Review is up. Enjoy.
I'm now the interview editor for the journal. The power is mine. Tremble in fright.
I'm now the interview editor for the journal. The power is mine. Tremble in fright.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Rumble in the Jungle
There's a battle raging in the poetry blog world. It's a battle for the title of Nerd Chic Hunk of the Blogosphere. In this corner: Charles Jensen. In the other corner: Morgan Lucas Schuldt.
The glasses! The utilitarian clothing! The I-only-spent-a-minute-on-my-hair-wink-wink hair.
One is based in Tempe: a Sun Devil. The other is based in Tucson: a Wild Cat.
Both are cute. Both are poets. Both are smarty pants.
But which one will come out on top?
Which one??
The glasses! The utilitarian clothing! The I-only-spent-a-minute-on-my-hair-wink-wink hair.
One is based in Tempe: a Sun Devil. The other is based in Tucson: a Wild Cat.
Both are cute. Both are poets. Both are smarty pants.
But which one will come out on top?
Which one??
Announcing the Three Candles Open Book Award
from Steve:
"three candles press is pleased to announce the Three Candles Open Book Award for the best book of poems submitted for the contest. Poets at all stages of their careers are eligible to participate. This contest will be judged by Joan Larkin, whose poetry collections include Housework, A Long Sound, and Cold River.
Award: Winner receives $500.00 and 25 copies of the winning book. Deadline September 30th (post-mark date). The winner will be notified at the end of December. The book will be available on the three candles website, through online retailers such as Amazon and Barnes and Noble, and at fine booksellers nationwide. The winner will receive a standard royalty contract.
Guidelines: Manuscripts of 60 - 95 pages should have one cover page containing the poet's name, address, phone number, email address and title of manuscript, and another with only the name of the manuscript. Please include only one acknowledgements page.
How the Contest Works: Three Candles Journal editor-in-chief Steve Mueske will read all submitted manuscripts and forward the finalists to the judge. The final round of materials will be judged anonymously (without coversheet or acknowledgements page). The judge will be asked to sign an affidavit attesting that the winning manuscript is not from a current or former student. To avoid conflicts of interest, the following manuscripts will be ineligible: those from former students of the judge, or from family members or friends of the judge; those who have workshopped with Steve Mueske or received comments from any poems contained in the manuscript; and those who have worked with the editor in some business capacity prior to the opening of the competition.
Those poets whose work has been published in three candles journal are eligible.
Manuscripts should be printed on one side only and bound with a sturdy clip. Include an SASE for contest results. Contest entry fee is $22.00. Make checks payable to "three candles press".
Send materials to:
three candles press
open book award
PO Box 1817
Burnsville MN 55337
Official link to the contest is
here.
"three candles press is pleased to announce the Three Candles Open Book Award for the best book of poems submitted for the contest. Poets at all stages of their careers are eligible to participate. This contest will be judged by Joan Larkin, whose poetry collections include Housework, A Long Sound, and Cold River.
Award: Winner receives $500.00 and 25 copies of the winning book. Deadline September 30th (post-mark date). The winner will be notified at the end of December. The book will be available on the three candles website, through online retailers such as Amazon and Barnes and Noble, and at fine booksellers nationwide. The winner will receive a standard royalty contract.
Guidelines: Manuscripts of 60 - 95 pages should have one cover page containing the poet's name, address, phone number, email address and title of manuscript, and another with only the name of the manuscript. Please include only one acknowledgements page.
How the Contest Works: Three Candles Journal editor-in-chief Steve Mueske will read all submitted manuscripts and forward the finalists to the judge. The final round of materials will be judged anonymously (without coversheet or acknowledgements page). The judge will be asked to sign an affidavit attesting that the winning manuscript is not from a current or former student. To avoid conflicts of interest, the following manuscripts will be ineligible: those from former students of the judge, or from family members or friends of the judge; those who have workshopped with Steve Mueske or received comments from any poems contained in the manuscript; and those who have worked with the editor in some business capacity prior to the opening of the competition.
Those poets whose work has been published in three candles journal are eligible.
Manuscripts should be printed on one side only and bound with a sturdy clip. Include an SASE for contest results. Contest entry fee is $22.00. Make checks payable to "three candles press".
Send materials to:
three candles press
open book award
PO Box 1817
Burnsville MN 55337
Official link to the contest is
here.
Housekeeping
I've deleted and added some blogs to my blog roll. Welcome:
Justin Evans
Morgan Lucas Schuldt
Mary Biddinger
David Harris-Gershon
AD Thomas Again!!!
Kevin Andre Elliott
Ali Stine
Of Looking at a Blackbird
Justin Evans
Morgan Lucas Schuldt
Mary Biddinger
David Harris-Gershon
AD Thomas Again!!!
Kevin Andre Elliott
Ali Stine
Of Looking at a Blackbird
Monday, May 08, 2006
John Olivares Espinoza

This is John Olivares Espinoza. Ain't he cute? Back off, ladies! He's got a girl. And she's cute. Cuter than you!
John's first book has just been picked up by BILINGUAL REVIEW PRESS. Yeah! I can't wait to buy a copy or two.
Don't let the blazer fool you. John is hardcore. Look at him wrong and he'll bust a cap in your ass. ZAS!
Need some John in your life right now? You can read some of his work HERE.
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