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by Ed Varney
Jamie Reid is drawing attention to the highly original and distinctive art and poetry of Gerry Gilbert, including Counterfeit Pennies, which you can view online.
Counterfeit Pennies, a work of art produced in 1996 by Vancouver poet, Gerry Gilbert, has been rescued from obscurity amongst the 25 boxes of memorabilia, films, videos, photograph albums, books and unpublished manuscripts found in the home of Gerry Gilbert after his death on June 20, 2009. This remarkable treasure trove from a hugely prolific life in poetry and art remains still unsorted in the Simon Fraser Special Collections Library. It has found a place there owing to the efforts of Gilbert’s daughter, Tamsin, and his son, Jeremy, as well as to the generosity of the Simon Fraser Special Collections Library and its director, Eric Swanick.
Thanks to the dedication and technical expertise of poet Lary Bremner, the first of these works will now appear in electronic format on the Internet, entirely for the delight of those poetry aficionados ready to appreciate again the special and irrepressible character of Gilbert’s enormous contribution to the body of Canadian avant garde poetry.
Ed Huyck reviewed the play for CityPages.com. A few excerpts follow.Monday May 6, 2013 in Meta-Talon
Ash Tanasiychuk takes pictures. Of Dina Del Bucchia. Nuff said. Oh, and Otters!Monday April 29, 2013 in Meta-Talon
Joanne Arnott interviews Wanda John-Kehewin about her new book In the Dog House:
I can’t really say there were many poets of the past that influenced my writing. I think when I really started to be inspired was when I heard that there were other Native writers, and that wasn’t until I moved to the West Coast in 1991. For some reason I didn’t think it was actually something an “Indian” could do. There weren’t any books in the library that were by First Nations people when I was growing up.Thursday April 25, 2013 in Meta-Talon
Garry Thomas Morse on poetry prizes and/or music in poetry. Whatever!
Not to pull an academy-bashing Joaquin Phoenix, but strictly off the record, I’ve never understood how prizes relate to poetry, exactly, and a number of acclaimed poets have confessed a similar sentiment in my presence, in one way or another. One would hope that a poet only gets into the racket out of an imperative need to do so, if not a compulsive love, implying all the emotions and forms of resentment love can contain. In that case, how can a prize for being the greatest lover compare to said love itself?
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