Mineral Hall, Hyatt Regency Denver | April 8, 2010

Episode 9: CLMP Keynote Address-Small Press Heaven: Poetics from the Floating World.

(Jeffrey Lependorf, Anne Waldman.) Performer, professor, editor, cultural activist, and author of over forty books of poetry, Anne Waldman discusses her storied history with independent publishers (with a special-guest musical accompaniment on Japanese bamboo flute!).

Published Date: July 12, 2010

Transcription

Speaker 1:

Welcome to the AWP podcast series. You are now tuning into the Council of Literary Magazine's keynote address, Small Press Heaven: Poetics from the Floating World. This event originally occurred at the AWP Conference in Denver on Thursday, April 8th 2010. The recording features Anne Waldman and Jeffrey Lependorf.

Jeffrey Lependorf:

Thanks for being here. I'm Jeffrey Lependorf, Executive Director of the Council of Literary Magazines and Presses, CLMP. CLMP since 1967 has been helping small publishers through the business of publishing. We like to say inside that we help publishers with all of the un-sexy stuff that allows you to enjoy the sexy stuff, what's being published. Every year in our little conference within a conference here at AWP, we invite someone who's particularly special to the small press community and Literary Magazine Community to serve as our keynote speaker. We have an extra special guest today, someone who is not only an important part of the history of publishing, but an important part of the poetry canon and in fact, important part of CLMP's history itself.

Jeffrey Lependorf:

I feel like I don't have to say anything to introduce Anne Waldman, but she's published over 40 books of poetry. She has been involved in many anthologies of poetry and it'd be hard to go to any poetry section anywhere and not be able to find a book by Anne. Her book, Manatee/Humanity has just come out from Penguin and her Magnum Opus, Lovis, is coming out from Coffee House in this next year. Anne is also along with Allen Ginsberg, co-founder of course of the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at Naropa and still runs the summer program there and is artistic director of the program there. I could go on and on, but I won't. I'd rather just introduce to you Ms. Anne Waldman.

Anne Waldman:

I should introduce you again to Jeffrey. This is another thing he does, very passionate about, a wonderful shakuhachi player and also he has several other instruments here, the Xiao and the tanso from Korea. He's going to accompany my little talk and I want to acknowledge the support for this floating world as I'm calling it, floating world small press heaven for this presentation from the council. This formidable organization was just getting started in my early years and was a lifeblood for so many of us in the young alternative poetics community. I also served at one point on the board with James Tate and others. I think it was a very different kind of operation then, a very different temporary autonomous zone. The fact that it's continued is really wonderful and extraordinary in how helpful it's been all these years, so thank you.

Anne Waldman:

The floating world, I borrowed this nomer, which refers to the artistic genre of woodblock printing in Japan. Representing an evanescent world, an impermanent world which depicted motifs of landscape, tales from history, the theater, the pleasure quarters, sometimes in single sheet prints like Broadsides. They were produced from the 17th to 20th centuries and seemed to cover a range of activities. I'd like to conjure this sense of immediacy, availability. These woodblock prints were inexpensive and at times mass-produced and they were representing that floating world, ephemeral rather than eternal.

Anne Waldman:

When I found myself in the midst of so much of our frenzied poetry publishing activity in the mid-sixties, the sense was to get it out. We were not thinking about durability or preciosity or something lasting. The point was poetically and politically to get the works, as we call them, out now by any means necessary. As Diane di Prima calls her talk on small press publishing in the recent beats at Naropa published by Coffee House Press. It was the extraordinary anthologist and poet Jerome Rothenberg's Hawk Well press that published five issues of a magazine entitled Poems from the Floating World and half a dozen books of poetry, including one of Diane Wakoski's early books. Nice to have people in the room here who know some of this history as well.

Anne Waldman:

I'd also like to invoke the image of the sacred conversation in Italian painting, the [inaudible 00:05:36]. Hosts of poets and artists and philosophers standing around in heaven in harmonious angelic discourse. Allen Ginsberg often described this state of communitas as high art and talk, high talk. Robert Creeley referred frequently to the company of friends, the necessity and lifeblood of that grounding in community and also a sense of sangha Sanskrit for community, a community of like-minded spiritual seekers.

Anne Waldman:

What were we talking about in our sacred conversations? Often a recent poem that had appeared overnight in a Mimeo magazine, put together by invisible small press cobblers or weavers in the middle of the night, the trolling elves. It's so wonderful now that people start to salivate over the staples, the little traces of rust from the staples on our mimeograph magazines. I still have some boxes full in the sort of shadow floating world markers, those little signs.

Anne Waldman:

In this magpie exegesis, I'd like to highlight the necessity of the inventions and the sense of lineage that our small press work entailed. A lineage which I call the outrider lineage. Outrider, riding alongside, not outside but out ride. This came to me in my years here in Colorado and in conversations with Ed Dorn and others. The outriders often were the folk who carried the mail or who carried the accoutrements or the extras with the community that was moving, this migratory community. Invoking that outrider lineage and also the praxis of gift economy. I'll talk a little bit about that, Marcel Mauss' sense of what that is, the gift economy.

Anne Waldman:

This alternative path has also been very much a personal trip in terms of my whole life as a writer. I think without the support of community and without the support of small press, I'd be in a very different state of mind. Also, Charles Olson's sense in his projective verse of the kinetics of the thing, and one thought following instanter on the other. This was something we invoked in the early days of the poetry project at St. Mark's Church in the Bowery. That sense of the project as projecting outward into public space and also seeing small press not only as an economy but as a performance.

Anne Waldman:

Ho to the future with firm hands, the future of each afterlife or each ghost of each word that is about to be mentioned. Jack Spicer from a textbook of poetry, "I know how to work the machines." From my own fast speaking woman, my new book of poetry to be printed in simple type on old brown paper. Feminine, marvelous and tough.

Anne Waldman:

Ted Berrigan, personal poem number nine from the sonnets, first printed in offset format by C Press, co-edited with Ron Padgett in the sixties. Chinua Achebe has written, "New forms must stand ready to be called into being as often as new threatening forces appear on the scene. It is like earthing an electrical charge to ensure communal safety."

Anne Waldman:

So much of this activity was going on in the midst of the Vietnam War and many of us were involved with alternative protest and trying to hold community together. This sense of earthing an electrical charge to ensure communal safety. We earthed our mimeo machines in this ethos. We plugged them in, we earthed them in our temporary autonomous zones. We earthed them in the margins. We earthed them in outrider space, we earthed them in the intrices, the places where we still had control over the look and feel of our own work and where we were also in that glorious company.

Anne Waldman:

Our collaborative collective press activity was a kind of hybrid. Hybridity literally referring to the characteristics of plants or animals that are offspring of individuals belonging to different species. This critical theorizing term now used in post-colonial theory describes the newness of many different forms of migrant or minority discourses that flourish in the diasporas of the modern and postmodern periods. Homi Bhabha speaks of the third space of annunciation, not unlike William Burroughs' third mind, which emerges as a result of collaboration, cannibalizing of text, appropriation, the meeting of two minds, intervention on sacred cows as when Burroughs intercuts lines with Rambo or Shakespeare or Ted Berrigan's collaged sonnets. There's also William Carlos Williams' notion of stepping into a magazine as you would a love affair with a lot of strange bedfellows. Linguistic crossbreeding as well as imaginal crossbreeding, which might result as a clash of civilizations or cultures or languages or other trajectories of identification, which could also be a gradual assimilation or exchange.

Anne Waldman:

One thinks gratefully of so many small presses that have highlighted translation as their main focus such as Keith and Rosmarie Waldrop's extraordinary Burning Deck. I've more and more been thinking of how the United States spreads its ideologies through war and commerce, promoting and market driving its stuff, and how small press and the other work we do emerges as continuing antidote. The poetry for me has always been the rival government and needs to do what the combined polis is supposed to be doing, taking care of one another's imagination and language invention. That our work should be more tenacious than ever making sense, and perhaps more importantly, reflect and ponder the strange hybrid mirror and what kind of brave, new, terrifying world we are inhabiting.

Anne Waldman:

The Syrian poet Adonis has written, "There is no human dimension at any given period of time without poetry. Poetry is not a stage but a constituent of human consciousness. Poetry is news that stays news. Spread that news." Helen has said that the 20th century in its violence has brought about the marriage of poetry and history, perhaps the most provocative hybrid of all from the standpoint of being writers and artists. Ernesto Cardinal advocates exterior ismo. Not unlike the strategy of Olson's investigative poetics where you bring exact data, information, and elements of real life to the work. Where we must answer with our imaginations to hold the values of the imagination, we need to be not only defenders of freedom, but inventors of freedom and earth that charge.

Anne Waldman:

The projects I was involved with started with very little capital. For years we needed to raise modest amounts of money to sustain these community activities. The avant-garde experimental poetry communities operating outside the well-funded institutions and the academic mainstream always functioned along the lines of gift economy. Gift economy. This term comes from French anthropologists and sociologists. Marcel Mouse often considered the father of modern French anthropology. His most influential work is Essai sur le don translated as the gift, the form and reason for exchange in archaic societies. We are far and maybe not so far from archaic, but I think some of the paradigm still holds. Mouse writes that the giver does not merely give an object but gives part of himself or herself. The object is indissolubly tied to the giver. The objects are never merely separated from the men who exchange them. Because of this bond between giver and gift, the act of giving creates a social bond with an obligation to reciprocate on the part of the recipient.

Anne Waldman:

Mouse asks, "What power resides in the object that causes its recipient to pay it back? There's also the notion of in alien ability in a commodity economy, there is a strong distinction between objects and persons through the notion of private property, private property. Objects are sold, meaning that the ownership rights are transferred to the new owner. The object becomes alienated from its original owner, but in a gift economy, the objects are inalienable from the givers, they're loaned rather than sold, and seeded gift exchange therefore leads to a mutual interdependence between giver and receiver. According to Mouse, the free gift that is not returned is a contradiction because it cannot create social ties. His argument is that solidarity is achieved through social bonds created by gift exchange. And this has certainly been true of Bohemian artist cultures and certainly true of the way the small press has survived.

Anne Waldman:

For years, small presses have been exchanging their chatbooks and magazines and poets and visual artists design who design the covers and the like have given freely of their work. While the economy has shifted in recent years, this practice continues unabated. In this exchange, the author is more interested in copies of the item than financial remuneration. Often the artist donates the artwork or the poet, the manuscript to sustain the press. Clearly there is a deeper complexity in these considerations of an individual's intention and the efficacy of one's creative work in the world and what it's worth. And I'm sure a lot of the small presses here need to seriously think about the economy and how they survive and where they get the money from.

Anne Waldman:

But I'm harking back to the old days of a floating world. Joan Retallack, the poet and John Cage scholar has observed, "When you get down to the level of individual agency, the effects of any one person's actions or work particularly from the partial and myopic perspective of that individual herself are quite mysterious." This means I think, that each person has to make decisions based on prescription rather than prediction, prescription rather than prediction. You might prescribe in an aesthetic context that your own action will be based on our conscious framework of values. Knowing that you can't predict the effect this will have on your audience, much less the world situation.

Anne Waldman:

I grew up inside a Bohemian family and community that particularly valued the Chapbook. The genre carried this palpable dynamism and economic viability, a wide-ranging aesthetic over various times and cultures. It was a path with numerous trajectories, although painstakingly devotional letterpress printing or through painstaking devotional letterpress printing or cheaper swifter modes of mimeo and offset to get that workout. Gary Snyder speaks of how the identity of the poet was established through publication, how hard it was to get into print in the fifties. William Burroughs's first publication in the Black Mountain Review. Just one example, a huge breakthrough as I was getting started in the early '60s in high school editing something called the Oblivion and a magazine called The Stove. As a poet and small press publisher, there was a sense of being part of a glorious time honored lineage. One took pride in the seminal marginal ethos of its press at the press and the chapbook format of the underground.

Anne Waldman:

I first worked with a printer of menus in broadsheet in Bennington, Vermont, one Ronnie Ballou who seen both mystified and charmed by setting lines of poetry. Most of us know the origins of the term chapbook here, the Chapbook being a generic term for a pocket-sized booklet popular in the 16th century. British Isles considered a variety of ephemera, could also be a political pamphlet, a religious tract, selections of folktales or an almanac and so on. And this form arose from the broadsheet and broadside, which were often used as official notices posted on walls and barns. And you can see these still in China, and you saw them, I saw them in South America and I once had a tasty samosa wrapped in old pamphlet Chapbook paper in India. The Chapbook was part of the stock and trade of the Chapman, a kind of peddler and also a trickster pickpocket.

Anne Waldman:

Noah Eli Gordon in a piece on the Chapbook also calls the Chapman a kind of Johnny Appleseed of early literary education. I frequented the eighth Street bookshop when I was a child growing up just a few blocks away on McDougall Street in Greenwich Village. Begun in 1947, the Lenz brothers Ted and Eli started their store in an old Wam Rast, which sold greeting cards and the like later moving to another location across the street and was still going strong, both the store and the Corinth Press, which had begun in 1959. It was an active literary scene for many years, publishing small editions, first stapled, later glued, and also published in conjunction with Leroy Jones later, AMI Baraka's Totem Press, a number of important anthologies and books. I remember four Lady Poets. I remember Ted Jones's, the hipsters, I remember the Moderns anthology edited by Leroy Jones and di Prima's Dinners and Nightmares.

Anne Waldman:

She had shown me a copy when I first went to visit her in TU at the Albert Hotel in New York City in 1962. I had just gotten out of high school. I remember buying my first copy of Howell at this bookshop, this particular Pocket poets edition published by Lawrence Ferling, Getty City Lights, certainly abed the Chapbook and alternative Poetics revolution. How original blockbuster poster child of Chapbook recently made into a movie starring James Franco. So a chatbook how became a culture, how became a cultural intervention, how sparked a literary and socially and culturally activist generation as well as an historical trial.

Anne Waldman:

How had extraordinary worldwide influence published in hundreds of other languages, helped fuel a school, the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics on the continental divide of the US of A. How many beat conferences, how many countless dissertations, how many copies sold? How many copies sold to support a whole press which published hundreds of other authors. A chapbook became an industry. How the poster child of Chapbooks. We can do it ourselves. The ethos within our own communities. We do not have to wait for them to discover us. We are at the control.

Anne Waldman:

This is a quote from a talk that Baraka gave in the late '90s at the Kerouac School called Cultural Revolution, and the canon very empathetic about this do it yourself ethos. I wish I could imitate Baraka, but it's up to us as poets of truth if that's what we want to be, and obviously that's why we have to have class struggle because some of us are willing to struggle. I've never been afraid to struggle, but some people say, "Well, you struggle too hard." I think as long as you're principled, as long as you're not trying to wipe anybody out, kill anybody. I'm talking about the world of literature and art that you have to struggle above board and forthrightly to try to get a higher level of unity. That's what I've always wanted. And I think if we can't pass out of this world without leaving something of value, some kind of institution, like a political party.

Anne Waldman:

Because when I say political party, all people think you mean is voting political party, it has to do with anything. It has to do with leading demonstrations, opening museums, fighting economically. Where are our revolutionary filmmakers? Where are our revolutionary filmmakers? We've already seen the camcorder as a revolutionary object. Where are our camcorder films? We can't make $80 million films about Batman, nor do we want to. But where are the $200 films? Where are the thousand dollars films that we circulate ourselves? You know what I'm saying? Where are the little art galleries that only fit 10 people at a time where they sell the painting for a dollar and a half or $10?

Anne Waldman:

Where's that little mimeograph stuff that we sell for $2? We're not fighting against these people. All we're trying to do is get in. You have to fight these people, you have to fight them. Even when you are locked up, you know you've got to fight. But do something. Don't just stand around lamenting. You know what I'm saying? I get so tired of lamenting, just fight. I believe there's enough resources right here in this Naropa tent to set up at least one theater somewhere, one film studio, somewhere, a network of nightclubs, a network of poetry readings, a network of presses. I mean, do something. Don't just wait to be accepted by the a I don't just wait for them. That's what I'm saying. Are there any questions?

Anne Waldman:

So Baraka encapsulates this spirit and this is in a book published by Coffee House Press, this text I was reading from. Baraka encapsulates the spirit of his generation and the spirit of struggles so endemic to his life, but also a sense of a grassroots praxis I've inherited and have lived by. While it touches on the larger implications of art and movie making, it includes the vision so entwined with the practices of the new American poetry communities, the Umbra community later, the language community and so on. The poetics demon activity, chapbook mast is vast and entwined and the edges blur. It's a fascinating vast study and the tradition continues. And here are a few words from Jerry Rothenberg's preface to a secret location on the Lower East Side, which covers a lot of this early history. Everyone loves a paradox. Let me start off with this now.

Anne Waldman:

Familiar one, the mainstream of American poetry. The part by which it has been and will be known has been long in the margins, nurtured in the margins, carried forward, vibrant in the margins as mainstream and margin both. It represents our underground economy as poets, the gray market for our spiritual corporeal, spiritual corporeal exchanges. It is the creation as such of these poets who have seized or have often invented their own means of production. One saw the whole modernist scene born out of the self-published small press, which included Walt Whitman's, leaves of grass, Emily Dickinson's, intimate sles. We moved to the vortex of Ezra Pound's activity on behalf of his own writing and so many others little review, transition and so on. Our spiritual corporeal exchanges. And one felt this efficacious power, a seal of one's dedication. Joining the small press revolution in the '60s. Many of the early small press ventures were coming from individuals connected with bookstores coming from particular sites, activity zones, Robin Blazers, the Moth poem, Open Space 1965.

Anne Waldman:

I first encountered in Berkeley during the Berkeley conference, a conference which sweetened the path. So one found one's people, one found one's tribe as it were, from these additions, extraordinary additions that spurred me to Berkeley, to the poetry project, to Boulder and the founding of Naropa Institute. At Berkeley, at the age of 20, I met poet Lewis Warsh, who became a partner and co-editor of the Angel Hair Projects, the magazine itself and 60 small press editions at a Robert Duncan reading. We founded this magazine and entitled it Angel Hair, and this Angel Hair was not only the very thin pasta, but also came from a poem by a high school buddy, Jonathan Cott. Angel Hair sleeps with a boy in my head.

Anne Waldman:

She says, "School is a drawing of your body, and she paints lectures on paradox when she screws, the boy has blue eyes, but looks like me. He says, my beauty comes from lectures, especially when they're boring. In fact, their love is boring, and sometimes I cover them with myths to feel this true fair world of things, a sea reflecting love, and when I read books, they take part in all of it, and when I want to be alone, they go out for a walk. They can never leave me and I hope I will never go away."

Anne Waldman:

And this is one of the first works I heard Robert Duncan read in Berkeley that same summer of 1965, where we founded Angel Hair and which we later published in Angel Hair number three, he was reading from a text called Sonnets after Ted Berrigan. So this is Robert Duncan. Beginning with sonnets for Ted Berrigan, turning on poetry and I'm off along lines, Ginsburg is reading to places it takes a line in here. I have not heard beautiful yellow cheeks and jowls marking an uneven stanza off with jewels. Little girls reading all the way through 88 Highway into some part of Oregon. Goddess of music and poetry bypass where Allen Ginsburg says, "This, a line for you in your own collection. It is 8:45 and two more for closing. We need something lovely that will lead on to closing doors we see." And a line from John Ashbury, "The Academy of the Future is opening its doors to us."

Anne Waldman:

And this from Joe Brainerd from a memoir section at the end of the Steve Clay Granary Press book and the Steve Clay Angel Hair anthology. Joe Brainerd, wonderful artist, writer, poet. So key to these early years and also had his own small press called B-O-K-E. "Dear Anne, you know I write for people. I really do. When I write, I feel like I'm talking to people and telling them you that things that I want to tell them. If there were no magazines and no readings, I wouldn't write. Having written I remember and now not having read it or heard it really drives me up the wall because soon it won't for me be personal anymore. What I'd really like is for you to print it or for you to let me read it as a reading at St. Mark's Church."

Anne Waldman:

1966, the Poetry Project founded on a grant from the Office of Economic Opportunity under Lyndon Johnson. I was hired as an assistant to Joel Oppenheimer and it was a grant to work with alienated youth on the Lower East Side. The same time I was getting to know Joel, I met his wife who was a, Helen Oppenheimer, who was a palm reader and she read my poem and she said, "You'll always stay loyal to the small press." She actually said that it was sort of, she saw these lines in my hand. So out of that somewhat collective operation, of course the grant ended after a couple of years and we had to seek other funding. I remember once we got money from the foundation whose money came from Lifesavers. That was appropriate.

Anne Waldman:

That still goes on as I'm sure many of you know, the poetry project at St. Mark's Church in the Bowery and also as a site for a lot of small press activity, and this sense of projecting into public space and performance and activism. So I worked there a decade. Many, many anthologies came out of that project. Many other people used the magazine facilities, the Mimeo Magazine. It was wired for robberies and something called the Pinkerton Agency. So if you didn't set the wire properly and get the numbers right, these agents would show up with drawn guns. I remember several nights late at nights sweating over the Mimeo machine and not getting the wire right. You literally had to stretch this thing across the room and not either gesture over it. It was a hot wire triggering this alarms and then these people would show up with guns at your head. So we were, that was the struggle.

Anne Waldman:

And then the founding of the Kerouac School, 1974. And we built small press publishing into the curriculum from when so many things have continued to emerge. And we have something there called the Harry Smith Print shop honoring Harry Smith, who is primarily known for his anthology of folk music that he put together in the '50s. He called him a cosmologist who was also a filmmaker and we had him in residence at Naropa for several years. Alan Ginsburg had rescued him from a fleabag hotel on the Lower East Side. So we were in this Harry Smith print shop and our print shop features a Chandler and Price Platinum Press a Vander Cook. SP 15 Proof Press courses are offered for students who wish to learn printing techniques using distributable type on both platinum and proof presses. The print shop adds a fine crafts dimension to the writing and poetics course offerings.

Anne Waldman:

Periodic classes in book binding and paper making are also offered. The core press and much of the older Perpetua type were originally owned by poet Lin Hagen Toowoomba Press, and just to stress this sense of lineage where we're working and students are working into the future because Naropa is a hundred-year project at least. That's how we founded it. Something that in terms of floating world, there's an interesting contradiction here, but what is a century but a blink of an eye. Any case, we inherited this press which had published people like Fannie Howe, Michael Palmer, Charles Bernstein, Alice Notley.

Anne Waldman:

She had passed this press on to David Scheider and David had used his imprint, coincidence Press to publish books by Larry Ener, Andrew Shelling, Robert Kelly, Rachel Blau DuPlessis. And then when he decided to stop printing, he offered his print shop, including the historic Chandler and Price Plot Press to Naropa. And then later equipment arrived from the Ride All press, which was founded by friends of DH Lawrence and from Ken Micky's alternative press. And a large platinum press was received from Saltworks press and dates back to 1915 type and more equipment have been added. We call it the Kavya Yantra press Sanskrit word for poetry machine, and this is the imprint for our chapbooks and Broadsides.

Anne Waldman:

So just to close with this part, I just wanted to conjure an image of a kind of activity that used to go on in my apartment on St. Mark's Place, 33 St. Mark's Place, now a tattoo parlor and piercing salon. I still go back in there occasionally and try to visualize the old days when we were up all night working on these kinds of projects, but one image I wanted to leave you with, because a lot of us were involved with these individual, just one of a kind items, these little handmade books. And my collection in Ann Arbor has a great number of these, one of a kind editions and including one by Robert Duncan. I can still visualize Robert Duncan sitting on the floor pen in hand, 1967, making some delicate little ossicles. And now we're going to have just a little flash through some of these names of magazines and sites.

Anne Waldman:

Let's try to sing a little tribute. Seminar, the floating bear mail list, male art, male list, male art. William Everson in 1943 in the conscientious objectors camp at Walport, Oregon, publishing poems in an unofficial newsletter, the Untied and used a Mimeo machine to produce his own ex war elegies. An astonished eye looks out of the air. Kenneth Patchin, 1945, the Ark Rex Roth Eberhart. Paul Goodman, the homosexual in society published in Dwight McDonald's politics. Robert Duncan, the Experimental Review, the Berkeley Mis GJ and Open Space 1964 Poetry as Magic Workshop. Jack Spicer, John Wiener's Measure City Lights opening in 1953. Beatitude six, gallery reading, 1955. All writers except Rex Roth in their '20s. What started in San Francisco and spread from there across the world was public poetry. The return of a tribal pre-literate relationship between poet and audience. [inaudible 00:43:04]. Big table from Kerouac's Cable. Call it big table,. Call it big table. Call it Big table. Impounded by post office. Challenged by ACLU Judge Julius Hoffman. I later saw at the Chicago trial. Deep image ethno, poetics [inaudible 00:43:33] ethno poetics.

Anne Waldman:

1962, Fuck You, a magazine of the arts is edited, published zapped, designed, freaked, groped, stomped and ejaculated by Ed Sanders at a secret location on the Lower East Side, New York City, US of A. 1940, John Ashbury as editor of the Harvard Advocate publishes stories and poems by Frank O'Hara. 53 folder Edited by Daisy Alden. '53, John Bernard Myers of Tibor Denaj Gallery publishes Frank O'Hara's Oranges. 1953, Meditations in an Emergency. 1957, '58, Skyler's, Alfred and Guinevere. '59 Kenneth Co. '60, Barbara Guess the Location of Things. Frank O'Hara dies 1966. However, however, Kathleen Frazer, however, however, however. And Ken [inaudible 00:45:43]. Z, z.

Jeffrey Lependorf:

Anne, thank you so much for being here. Thank all of you today here. Thank you.

Speaker 1:

Thank you for tuning in to the AWP podcast series. For other podcasts, please tune into our website at www.awpwriter.org.

 


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