After a ride on the 358, I get where John Burgess is coming from with his Aurora bus updates. I sat down in the back row next to this guy who started talking at me and went on non-stop all the way downtown, showing me quit claim deeds and medical records he had stuffed into his backpack. He talked about how Steve Ballmer has his cellphone number and that he knows the Alhadeffs. But the topper turns out to be my American Sentence for the day and I am not making it up. If you did not catch my Facebook status update, you’ll have to figure out which one below was the highlight of my encounter with this stranger just looking for someone to talk to. Of course, he may be crazy, but he may be exactly right on about his observation. You’ll also find the latest suggestions for band names, one of Interrupture’s lines, hernia surgery fallout, Blackhawks highlights and other Hillman City, Chicago, Washington DC and Nanaimo scenes. See the highlights of all of 2013’s American Sentences here.
5.10.03 – Latest new band name, from Judith Skillman: “Annihilated Mustache.”
5.15.13 – The Blackhawks can’t score on the power play & Ella screams into her shoe.
5.17.13 – Only when it blossoms do we understand a plant for what it is.
5.19.13 – 10 weeks after the surgery, she says I have a “genital mullet.”
5.31.13 – Interrupture Trope Opera: “Lubricate like you’ve never been hustled.”
6.1.13 – “Integration,” Ma says – black squirrels in the neighborhood – she feeds ’em crackers.
6.10.13 – At Apple Auto Glass in Nanaimo, sign says: “Is Your Crack Showing?”
6.11.13 – Mary says: “Nanaimo is like a toy red balloon freed from the spleen.”
6.11.13 – Acme, downtown Nanaimo, Red Bull Margaritas: Bullgaritas!
6.13.13 – “Words found or discovered in a book are one level of… dictation.” (Robin Blaser)
6.16.13 – Any writer can ink stain pants, a real writer ink stains boxers.
6.16.13 – Searching Facebook for Kevin Kling they suggest “Kling, Klingon, bling & cling.”
6.19.13 – 94 East, bumper sticker says: “Proud Parents of a Civilian.”
6.21.13 – “First day of summer in Chicago and seven people have been shot.” (WXRT News Lead)
6.24.13 – A puck in Shaw’s face & two behind Rask in 17 seconds, HAWKS!
6.27.13 – At the sushi bar Josh tells us “Fuslims are the new Wangsters.”
7.01.13 – Approaching Genesee standing on her bike, her cleavage does not stop.
7.03.13 – The potted plants outside the medical marijuana shop are dead.
7.10.13 – If you’re fasting during Ramadan can you still eat your cuticles?
7.12.13 – One crack about menstruation and I’m: “The man w/o a uterus!”
7.13.13 – Moth corpse in park urinal – in death he continues getting pissed on.
7.17.13 – After Brian’s wake my cellphone says: Can’t Find a Secure Connection.
7.19.13 – Despite my laparoscopic surgery scar, my navel still gets lint.
7.21.13 – About that swimsuit: “Looks like a box of crayola threw up on her.”
7.22.13 – Ride by on my bike he says to me: “No helmet” – I say: “No muzzle!”
7.25.13 – Bob tells me: “They got helicopters up there that can see my wee wee.”
Paul Nelson is founder of SPLAB (Seattle Poetics LAB) in Seattle, the Cascadia Poetry Festival and the August POetry POstcard Fest (PoPo). www.POPO.cards. He has published a collection of essays, Organic Poetry & a serial poem re-enacting the history of Auburn, WA, A Time Before Slaughter (shortlisted for a 2010 Genius Award by The Stranger) and American Sentences, a book of 17 syllable poems drawn from the first fourteen of his 20 years of daily practice. The tenth anniversary edition of that book includes Pig War: & Other Songs of Cascadia. He’s interviewed Allen Ginsberg, Michael McClure, Wanda Coleman, Anne Waldman, Sam Hamill, Robin Blaser, Nate Mackey, Eileen Myles, George Bowering, Diane di Prima, Brenda Hillman, George Stanley, Joanne Kyger & many Cascadia poets (see: https://paulenelson.com/americanprophets/) has presented his poetry and poetics in London, Brussels, Bothell, Cumberland, BC, Qinghai and Beijing, China, Lake Forest, Illinois, Ukiah, CA, and other places & writes an American Sentence every day. www.PaulENelson.com