You do realize that your writing deserves to be in the Poetry Foundation, right? I don't know what else to say. I have seen poems fraction the size of this there. I wish you would publish a poetry book someday. I would buy it and keep it on my nightstand. Shout from rooftops. Absolutely gorgeous, Rebecca. Fucking stunning.
N., thank you. I did publish a couple of collections, but over 10 years ago. I think you may still be able to get the chapbook-- http://www.dancinggirlpress.com/terriblebaby.html And the other one is on Kindle--I Will Not Give Over.
Rebecca... You get on a roll and the truth just comes gushing out of you like when Jed Clampett shot at the rabbit and oil started bubbling up in the swamp... Like those movie scenes when the firemen take the caps off the plugs on a hot day and the water comes gushing out cooling all the children.
I like reading your stuff... Particularly pieces like this one, because it's like floating a canoe on a nicely rolling current. It's like listening to an old Doobie Brothers album back when I was 17.
As long as we’re clear on the….truth. It honestly had not occurred to me that anybody would assume this to be my experience. I’m going to go back and label it as fiction.
This saddle up and roll sort of piece is similar to things I wrote in the past. I have always loved the form, but have avoided it these last few years.
Hahaha. You can relabel it if you must, but I never saw it nor did it ever feel like you were describing your personal experience.
It felt like a wonderful exaggeration and super creative portrayal of what we all experience.
This poem delightfully explodes tidy notions of simple 'will conquers all' archetypal narratives that we find in romantic comedies and in the biographies of every famous rock star.
It places ego back in a more realistic proportion to reality.
And to be clear...I love romantic comedies. The cheesier the better.
Is it too much? My poor husband is shellshocked from reading/hearing me read pieces that I thought were mostly funny. I seem to disturb even when I don't intend it. Let me know after it's settled.
There's a whole life in this lyricalfictionpoem. Craves to be reread! Like this bit: 'I taught the little weirdo to wax the floors, I taught him to say what the fuck, I taught him to fight, I taught him to never look back. I taught him to pack up and move out into America—Route 66, the PCH. I taught the little asshole to beat time on the windshield, I taught him to busk, to sing bloody murder; I taught him to say I-am-a-window-washer, I-am-a-fish-gutter, I-am-a-chicken-plucker, I-am-a-cocksucker, I am down on my luck what I wouldn’t do for a buck.'
I read this over and over again because I love it so much. I feel like laughing and crying at the same time, and it feels great. Thank you for sharing this!
Rebecca, I read this a couple of weeks ago but didn't have the time to comment so bookmarked it to come back to. In those two weeks I have thought about this poem about ten times! It is just spectacular. The pace, the way it draws the reader in, the imagery... it is incredible, and one I will be rereading many times.
Thanks, Rebecca! So much. I'm glad you were able to come back to the piece. I renamed it flash fiction because some folks were thinking this was my experience, which made me think about how people perceive poetry if they weren't steeped in the academy. So I have begun to offer bits of explanation at the beginnings of poems, a setup, as you also do. Since joining Substack I'm feeling much more generous toward readers, which is a good thing.
Yes. I thought so. And thanks again. But I've gotten other weird responses to this one. I think it's too much. I'm used to this style, I think the piece is hilarious and maybe if I were reading it aloud to an audience the reaction would be very different. It's a lesson in audience, which is always valuable.
Oh....this is NOT about me. Well, a little bit is. But I was never forced to thrust my leg out to cars. (hehe) I wonder if it's too many.....too much. Does it really feel like being assaulted with words?
Don't worry Rebecca... It's like being assaulted in the very best of ways. Like riding a roller coaster. Scary as hell and then you want to do it all over again... It's like listening to good music. It is a ticket off the planet for a few minutes, without having to pay SpaceX
I thought is was a portrait of the Kirkby as a young man? We can see from his photography that he remains a hale and robust figure of legendary stature, a throwback to the days when the indigenous ancestors first crossed the desert on mountain bikes.
You do realize that your writing deserves to be in the Poetry Foundation, right? I don't know what else to say. I have seen poems fraction the size of this there. I wish you would publish a poetry book someday. I would buy it and keep it on my nightstand. Shout from rooftops. Absolutely gorgeous, Rebecca. Fucking stunning.
N., thank you. I did publish a couple of collections, but over 10 years ago. I think you may still be able to get the chapbook-- http://www.dancinggirlpress.com/terriblebaby.html And the other one is on Kindle--I Will Not Give Over.
Ah, yes! Fucking stunning indeed.
Yes, yes!!!
Rebecca... You get on a roll and the truth just comes gushing out of you like when Jed Clampett shot at the rabbit and oil started bubbling up in the swamp... Like those movie scenes when the firemen take the caps off the plugs on a hot day and the water comes gushing out cooling all the children.
I like reading your stuff... Particularly pieces like this one, because it's like floating a canoe on a nicely rolling current. It's like listening to an old Doobie Brothers album back when I was 17.
As long as we’re clear on the….truth. It honestly had not occurred to me that anybody would assume this to be my experience. I’m going to go back and label it as fiction.
This saddle up and roll sort of piece is similar to things I wrote in the past. I have always loved the form, but have avoided it these last few years.
Oh bless you for that bubbling crude!
Hahaha. You can relabel it if you must, but I never saw it nor did it ever feel like you were describing your personal experience.
It felt like a wonderful exaggeration and super creative portrayal of what we all experience.
This poem delightfully explodes tidy notions of simple 'will conquers all' archetypal narratives that we find in romantic comedies and in the biographies of every famous rock star.
It places ego back in a more realistic proportion to reality.
And to be clear...I love romantic comedies. The cheesier the better.
SO glad you love rom-coms, Jed. I just rewatched Definitely Maybe. (love love love)
This just comes rushing out at the reader...the form, language and emotions...a rollercoaster dipping fast!! Great write, Rebecca.
Thanks, Rajani.
You gonna have to give me some time to take in the wonderfulness, the heartbreak, the fierce fuck it.
Is it too much? My poor husband is shellshocked from reading/hearing me read pieces that I thought were mostly funny. I seem to disturb even when I don't intend it. Let me know after it's settled.
There's a whole life in this lyricalfictionpoem. Craves to be reread! Like this bit: 'I taught the little weirdo to wax the floors, I taught him to say what the fuck, I taught him to fight, I taught him to never look back. I taught him to pack up and move out into America—Route 66, the PCH. I taught the little asshole to beat time on the windshield, I taught him to busk, to sing bloody murder; I taught him to say I-am-a-window-washer, I-am-a-fish-gutter, I-am-a-chicken-plucker, I-am-a-cocksucker, I am down on my luck what I wouldn’t do for a buck.'
I am sure he will be fine once he realizes it is all in good fun. But I can see how he might be initially stunned
Lololol
Not too much at all. Loved it.
I read this over and over again because I love it so much. I feel like laughing and crying at the same time, and it feels great. Thank you for sharing this!
I’m glad it makes you laugh! It makes me laugh, too. Thanks so much for commenting, June.
Rebecca, I read this a couple of weeks ago but didn't have the time to comment so bookmarked it to come back to. In those two weeks I have thought about this poem about ten times! It is just spectacular. The pace, the way it draws the reader in, the imagery... it is incredible, and one I will be rereading many times.
Thanks, Rebecca! So much. I'm glad you were able to come back to the piece. I renamed it flash fiction because some folks were thinking this was my experience, which made me think about how people perceive poetry if they weren't steeped in the academy. So I have begun to offer bits of explanation at the beginnings of poems, a setup, as you also do. Since joining Substack I'm feeling much more generous toward readers, which is a good thing.
Or rather flash fiction, but it reads like a prose poem in my mind!
You are a legend.
You are very kind. Thank you. I've not written fiction like this in ages. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Whoa. Amazing. Great voice, movement, thrust! Thanks for this, Rebecca.
Thank you so much for reading and letting me know what you think. "Thrust!" (hee-hee)
Well that’s eight perfect paragraphs right there. Wow.😮
Thank you, Ian! What a nice thing to say.
Unexpected and compelling! A great prose piece, Rebecca. 💛
Thanks, Caroline.
Whoa! Powerful stuff here. I almost did much of that, too. What I did do was some of the same. Thanks for taking me on a journey with you, Rebecca.
Thanks, Michelle! 😁
I love this. Looooove
Thanks, lovely Alix. You don't think it's too much, overpowering?
I'm going to have to come back to this and drink it in again once it's cooled a little. Blimey, just staggeringly well written.
Thanks, doll. I'm getting the feeling that it's a bit hard to take in.
Sometimes really talented writers can insert an IV right into the vein. It means it reaches your nervous system whilst bypassing the brain.
Yikes!!
That was definitely a compliment!
Yes. I thought so. And thanks again. But I've gotten other weird responses to this one. I think it's too much. I'm used to this style, I think the piece is hilarious and maybe if I were reading it aloud to an audience the reaction would be very different. It's a lesson in audience, which is always valuable.
This is one of those times
Yep. What Naz said.
That's one fine and fierce shovel full of words there, friend Rebecca.
D
Oh....this is NOT about me. Well, a little bit is. But I was never forced to thrust my leg out to cars. (hehe) I wonder if it's too many.....too much. Does it really feel like being assaulted with words?
Don't worry Rebecca... It's like being assaulted in the very best of ways. Like riding a roller coaster. Scary as hell and then you want to do it all over again... It's like listening to good music. It is a ticket off the planet for a few minutes, without having to pay SpaceX
Ah!!
Thank goodness
😅 lolololol
I’m a 🤡
Will go modify my restack now!
WTF is that animal...or is it a clown face? Yikes.
I thought is was a portrait of the Kirkby as a young man? We can see from his photography that he remains a hale and robust figure of legendary stature, a throwback to the days when the indigenous ancestors first crossed the desert on mountain bikes.
Clown! lolololol
Thanks, Billy.