The Masculine Race - a notebook manuscript from 1998

Larry Goodell

Third line from the bottom, the questionable word is "winnied" - what was intended?

This is from To Hell With Mumbo Jumbo, poems written in 1998, to be published.

The Masculine Race
/for Judy Grahn
Are we not big?
Are we not bad?
Are we not brutes?
Are we not had?
Are we not shoe spaces?
Are we not conjured doors?
Are we not upturned floors?
Are we not familiar faces?
Who is the toughest
the roughest
the dullest?
Who is the puffiest
the dustiest
the shortest?
Who is the biggest?
The worst?
The blasted?
the first
that lasted
the least
that lost
the most
that hosted
the toast
that roasted
the race
that winnied
the winner
that lost
the least on the list.
The smallest that finked
the skinniest that winked
the loser that screwed
the winner’s behind.
We are the last who lost the race
we are the defeated masculine race.

larry goodell / placitas, new mexico / 31Mar98

(Come to think of it, perhaps "whinnied" . . . )

The Shape of a Poem: Poetry a Three Dimensional Art Form

I've been thinking about the shape of a poem as it ends up on the page (often as a musical score for spoken voice), and as an object to read from in a live reading. So I added some photographs of Swimming By: Prologue & Song which hangs like a zig-zag snake from my hand when I read it aloud. The actual typed shape of the poem determines the cut out. The zig-zags of the poem are simply keys to pitch level of the voice when reading (or in this case, partially, singing), the farther from the left margin the higher the spoken voice.

Here is the poem & song text with the photos of the place (Sandia Mountain area) and the shape of the poem.

Swimming-by-Prologue-Song by Larry Goodell

I consider poetry a three dimensional art form and intend to put down my thoughts as elaborated recently as part of the poetry craft talks -- P(EAR) held at Alamosa Books in Albuquerque.

from The Lights No Stars Are Made Of

    (front & back cover & one page from my Notebook #54, one of many notebooks
    I made from stacks of my dad's leftover state senate & house stationary.
    this one covers June2000 to August 2001 . . .)


       The Truth of the Matter


         I can’t get enough done.
        Chaos aplenty rules the roost.
       It’s like an unkempt chicken house,
       feathers & shit everywhere.
      I pray to the organization order of the universe
      that produced one fine part, me,
      to connect me, to correct me, to direct me
     through these books, records, papers papers papers
     things scattered about long beyond their use:
     give me simplicity simplicity simplicity.
     Maybe if I keep saying it it will come.
     Oh order, good orderly direction, for goodness sake,
     for power, love, service to others’ sake.
     Take me, make me anew, may I do for once, what is true.

     larry goodell / placitas, new mexico / june 2000 / from The Light No Stars Are Made Of

AHOY MOLLOY!

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