I suppose, now that I’ve seen (most of–I haven’t been able to download all the images to my elderly, bottom -of-the-line  computer) the collection of artworks Geof Huth curated here, I’ll have to make something of a retreat in terminology. Geof, probably the most influential authority on the definition of visual poetry around, seems to believe that artworks containing nothing but words can be poetry–if, apparently, it does something “visual” like use the fact that “hear” and “here” sound alike but mean different things–as well as artworks containing nothing whatever that is explicitly verbal or even textual are visual poetry. My impression is that they majority of people contributing to shows like this one are similarly against sane naming. Ergo, instead of using “visual poetry” to mean what I think it should mean, I’m going to try from now on to call what I think of as visual poetry (because it is both meaningfully visual and meaningfully poetry): visioverbal visual poetry. “Visioverbal” rather than “verbovisual” because “visioverbal,” for me suggests that what is verbal is more important than what is visual in what is being described. It’s an awkward phrase, but what else can I use?

If asked to curate a show of what others call “visual poetry” (don’t worry, I won’t be), I will simply call it, “stuff.” Why confuse things with any name more detailed?

I can see one virtue of the use of the name “visual poetry” for almost anything: a “visual poet” can do art of a kind done for decades, like collage, and feel original be giving it a name it hadn’t been called by. (Not that there aren’t some really fine works in Geof’s gallery.)

I wasn’t finished with the revision of my book, just with getting a good rough draft of it done.  My morale got a substantial boost on Thursday  3 January 1991 due to a letter from John Byrum.  He asked if I’d consider letting him run a series of excerpts from my book in the newsletter he edits.  I thought that a great idea and after my afternoon nap have spent quite a bit of time getting 12 excerpts ready for him.  As I’ve gone along, I have also found places in my book in need of improvement and have thus taken up the book’s revision again.  In fact, I’ve cut my final chapter by around 500 words.

9 P.M.  Friday  4 January 1991 I made a few new changes in the book and in the excerpts as well.

8 P.M.  Monday  7 January 1991 Got my Manywhere excerpts ready for John Byrum.

10:10 P.M.  Tuesday  8 January 1991  The bank account is very low–I can’t publish more than a hundred copies of my revised edition of Manywhere without going below the minimum balance on my last account with anything at all in it.  But I guess I’ll have enough to print 100 copies of the psychology book, assuming my Xerox holds up.

9 P.M.  Thursday  17 January 1991 The mail included a nice letter from Carita (a member of the Tuesday Writers’ Group who’d bought a copy of my book before moving to Miami)–and the card I’d sent to James Kilpatrick for him to let me know if he’d gotten my letter about “vizlation” with.  He had, and–more amazingly–will be quoting it in a column in February, he says.

10 P.M.  Monday  21 January 1991  I spent most of the rest of the day writing definitions for the words in Of Manywhere-at-Once’s glossary.  It took me a surprisingly long time, but it was helpful, for I was able to improve several passages conerning those words in the main part of
the book.  I was dismayed to find two or three spots where my definitions were quite confused.  But now the only thing left to do to get the book completely ready for printing is a table of contents.  (Aside from working out the margins and all that baloney.)

8:30 P.M.  Wednesday  23 January 1991 I heard from John Byrum, okaying my Manywhere series except that he preferred to start with my second excerpt rather than the one telling about my beginning the sonnet and I decided he was right.  So I withdrew the first excerpt and the last, which goes with it.  Consequently, he’ll be running ten installments.

26 January 1991 I am now like a 25-year-old in quantity of accomplishments and social recognition, but like a 50-year-old in actual accomplishment.  It also passed through my mind how extremely self-confident, even complacent, I am at the deepest level that things will eventually come out right for me.  I think I get that from Mother.  But I’ve always known, too, that I have to work hard if that’s to happen, as I have, for the most part.

Tuesday  29 January 1991 dbqp #101, which I found in the back of my mailbox when I put some letters to go in it this morning.   Very interesting short history of dbqp and list of its first 100 publications with personal comments about them.  He mentioned me a great deal which was flattering but made me a little self-conscious, too.

Friday  1 February 1991  I was full of intimations of apotheosis this morning.  My feelings built till I got back from shopping and found rather null mail awaiting.  They faded quickly, then.  But I continue to feel pretty good.  Actually, it was good mail–letters from Malok, Jonathan and Guy.  Also material about 1X1 exhibit but no letter from Mimi, and a request for a catalogue.  Lastly, a quotation for printing 100, 1000 copies of Of Manywhere-at-Once from McNaughton (or something close to that, a company I’ve heard does good work): $1000, $2000.  Second price not bad at all but 1000 copies too many at this time.

YEAR-END SUMMARY (of my fiftieth year): 9 minor reviews of mine appeared in 5 different publications; 7 pieces of vizlature of mine, all but one of them visual poems, appeared in 6 publications; 2 or 3 of my letters appeared here and there; I got 1 mailart piece off to a show; I got 8 textual poems into 4 magazines; I produced 2 or 3 unplaced visual poems; I wrote 3 not-yet-placed essays; I got my book, Of Manywhere-at-Once, published at last, then revised it in totum; I made and self-published SpringPoem No. 3,719,242.

In short, not much of a year, but not terrible, either.