GOIF COMIX BY CHAZ FOLGAR

Goif! comix are made by hand by Chaz Folgar. He is an illustrator from Miami and the brother of one of my oldest friends and collaborators, Abel Folgar. Recently, Chaz illustrated a short story, "Compound Memorandum," by James Foley, journalist and foreign war correspondent.

Hinchas de Poesia Press is in the process of trying to publish Jim's short story and Chaz's illustrations. If you would like to order some Goif! comix for yourself, you can contact Chaz at chazf87@yahoo.com. Jim's email is foleyphoenix@aol.com. And, as always, you can order zines from Hinchas de Poesia Press anytime you like via Paypal or by sending a check or money order to the address specified on the Hinchas Press page.

ODE TO SALIF DIAO

In 2002, You and Bouba Diop score the first goal
of the World Cup against France, which had won it
in 1998 with that head-butting stalwart Zidane.

This was much akin to the reversal of fortune
Cameroon gave the Argentines in 1990. In Cameroon's
case: they had not really controlled the balon
(and Pumpidor should have really been able to neutralize
that slippery header before it vanished under the crook
of his confounded arm).

But, Diao's case is different. In his forward ascension
there has been little to stand in the way of his hunger.

In fact, Diao mercernaried with Monaco for a year, even
going as far as Ardennes before maturing with Liverpool.

In 2002, the Senegalese were coming with players conditioned by scrimmage
for swanky European teams. In effect, Diao outplayed the French,
perhaps even outcolonizing, overcolonizing them.

By 2002, Diao had managed to rig resources of their host teams to train
in absentia of their integral, national unit.

Diao was able to purloin Rebel sparring acumen from within the bowels
of the Imperial rank and file--had outmaneuvered the futbol pedagogues
of finesse. In short, after beating Denmark 2-1 in 2002, Diao established

himself as black star, legion to millions, and the reigning champ
of the intuitionless foot slice (which he perfected in that match against Denmark).

NEW IDEAS FOR ODES

KAISER FAMILY FOUNDATION AND THE BOOK INDUSTRY STUDY GROUP

I was just reading an interesting article in Library Journal titled, The Price of E-Book Access, and thought I might share the highlights with you guys, seeing as you are avid readers, bloggers, and writers yourself. The article itself is by Francine Fialkoff, Editor-in-Chief of Library Journal.

The studies targeted "eight- to 18-year-olds" and their amounts of consumption of various media, "She writes that The two studies...lend support to the idea of mashing-up formats and devices." In other words, just as in everything else, the consumer wants options. And option they shall get, because the ebook publishers want to sell as many as the print publishers.

"According to the Kaiser study on recreational media use, kids spend about 7½ hours each day consuming media—(in descending order) TV, music/audio, computer use, video games, print (reading), movies—with multitasking bringing that up to 10¾ hours". An interesting side not was, "Reading print books has remained relatively steady, from 43 minutes a day in 2004 to 38 in 2009." And, even some data that was not all that surprising at all, "Twenty percent of media consumption occurs on mobile devices."

"A BISG study of purchasers of both print and ebooks (only 868 out of 36,000 people “qualified” as respondents) cited affordability as the primary reason to purchase an ebook over a print book. Some one-fifth say they stopped buying print books, and, surprise, surprise, most wanted portability among devices."

Where does all this leave libraries, librarians, and those in librarianship? Well, the article also talks about libraries giving patrons the option of buying a title instead of waiting for the title to come in once they place it on hold. But this brings up issues of class and status because are our libraries, one of the symbols of our democracy, going to prefer the wealthy. You have to admit this does present an interesting problem.

Now let me compound the problem, libraries could stand to make money on the transfer fee that they could charge you to get you that book. Which begs the question, why not just buy it on Amazon, etc. I got to tell you, I don't necessarily think this is a bad idea, especially seeing as libraries are always getting their funding ripped out of their chests.

I would love to hear you thoughts.

RULES FOR HARLEM Y INDOOR SOCCER LEAGUE

1. games last five minutes, or the first team to score two goals.
2. you must be within the black three point line to score a goal.
3. you are not allowed to kick higher than the chest.
4. in the spirit of civility, every game shall start at the midfield point in the center of the court.
5. no team can stay on after three wins; that is, two new teams must come on.
6. tackle sliding is not permitted.
7 as a a safety measure, if someone falls on the floor, play is automatically suspended.
8. kicking the ball while you are on the floor is not permitted.
9. goalie must stand in front of the black perimeter line.
10. no reckless kicking, elbowing, or body checking allowed.
11. everybody, regardless of gender or skill, gets to play.
12. the person holding the watch decides contested goals.
13. the person holding the watch must be watching the game.
14. players must call fouls themselves, and every call must be respected.
15. The moderator, Jorge, has the authority to expel a player based on especially egregious instances of poor sportmanship, or repeated infractions, especially as they pertain to the safety of all the players.

ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHAZ FOLGAR FOR UPCOMING "COMPOUND MEMORANDUM" BY JAMES FOLEY

These are two illustrations done by a young lad called Chaz Folgar. He ponied up two illustrations for a new codex I want to put out that contains a short story by James Foley. I think the illustrations do the story service, moreover, I hear that Chaz used coffee or coffee grounds to give it that like desertstone, mudhut patina.

I just wanted to share these with my readers and to create some hype for James Foley's "Compound Memorandum," which I am currently working on trying to publish through Hinchas de Poesia Press. In case you didn't know, James Foley is an independent journalist currently embedded with American military forces in Afghanistan.

I believe James' story has to be heard because it is a story you don't hear very much. James story takes place in a compound in Baghdad used to house non-military personnel. His character is an American working for an NGO in Iraq that falls for a woman who doesn't necessarily fall for him. Moroever, it tells the story of what it is like to be confined to a compound.

I will keep you guys posted, pero at the same time you can check James out on my links list. His blog is called "A World of Troubels" and can be found here.

"IT STARTS WITH ART" POEM FOR IMAFRICANAMERICAN.COM

On Tuesday, February 16th, www.imafricanamerican.com is hosting a panel, "It Starts with Art," at the Countee Cullen NYPL @ 6 PM. Bryan Hanley, proprietor of the website, commissioned a poem from me a couple of months ago to use on the website. On Tuesday, Bryan has asked me to read the poem, or the revision, or whatever I have. Bryan has also been nice enough to allow me to sell my Hinchas de Poesia press zines, especially Ruberrooom and Bestias Inberbes. I just wanted to thank Bryan for this opportunity...


WHEN I CAME TO HARLEM


I came to Harlem a piquant divorcee
with half my illegible sexistence

in Goya cardboard boxes begged at bodegas for
and spools of duct tape. (I don’t even member

closing the door on my old space in Yorkville.)

I came broken-hearted dullard, dragging my alone-home,
like some alien snail in a second-hand tome.

I came lugging packing peanuts quilt
& two fireproof boxes of Spinoza certificates.

I came with a retinue of pink slips and madcap contracts.
I came with a body unaccustomed to sore; I came lugging
no audio speakers.

In an expensive box of my tremulous unmaking
I became very conscience that I was now in the World
(utilities included).

I came, how you say, come se dice, capice, an ellipses
of speak fortified with diodes of slang and the crucible
of many modern tongues.

I came to rent a flat from Canadian vixen teacher
& Haitian textile buyer for Macy’s. I came to live in a six by eight.

I came holding two pair, a coffer of crinkly dollar bills, a Styrofoam range
bean pies swaddled in cellophane, and a boulder of Shea butter.

I came asking, where the nearest Yemeni bodega gouger was?
Which Dominican chicken spot spares you a corra?

I came with security grates outside my window, Ashanti crescents—
hinges that groan like vuvusellas; I came concerned with my personal security
detail.

I came with a southern view of Adam Clayton, my very own Strivers' Row
Tarmac; I came with a proscenium the planners had designated
One Hundred Thirty-Seven Street.

I came not being black nor African-American. I came feeling like maybe
I don’t belong in Harlem throng.
I came to Harlem, black like it is, African-American as it is, pro-Black, over-Black, through-Black as it is, and I was embraced.

I came reminding Spanish speaking peoples that love to play amnesia,
there was a period when Berbers crossed ocean and conquered Spain.

I came wanting to be kissing blood cousins with the African continent;
I came wanting to learn Wolof, while at the same time knowing
Eddie Murphy is the real prince of Zamunda.

I came wanting to tease a treatise on what it means to be Black in the U.S.?
I came curious, studious, dubious of intention, asking questions, and calling
everyone sir.

I came to moderate the Harlem Y Indoor Soccer League, borrow books
from the Countee Cullen, traffick my laundry past the 32nd precinct.

I came walking up the same stairs to City College that Langston used,
came seeking notes to be stuck in the crevices of the dilapidated stairs.

REVISION OF "KENT,OHIO" BY ABEL FOLGAR (AND YAGO CURA)

COLLEGE & RESEARCH LIBRARIES ARTICLE ON SCHOLARLY COMMUNICATION

I just wanted to let my readers know about an awesome article I ran across in the February 2010 issue of College & Research Libraries on Scholarly Communication. The article, written by Adrian K. Ho and Daniel R. Lee, is titled, "Recognizing opportunities."

The article presents several scenarios that librarians can use when asked poignant questions by faculty (and students) about open-access, dissertation copyright, and research updates. What I like specifically about this article is that the authors give the readers specific scenarios that arise in the course of a librarian's day, and the way they should react when they do. I have often run across this scenario at the schools where I have worked, and think that librarians should not run away from these types of conversations.

When you engage with your constituents and address their gaps in access, patrons get to see that library as an organization that has its strengths and weaknesses. They understand that no library has every thing, that they have collections which have been purposefully developed. And, especially, that they have been developed with a specific intent, but subject to the contingencies of budget, taste, and human error. This article intends for it's readers to engage with it's users about issues which are impacting academic libraries at the current moment: access, budget, and idea ownership.

Possibly the scenario that I had to deal with the most, be it with faculty or students, is the problem of "limited journal access." This is a huge problem because most people just assume that libraries will automatically have access to everything. If this scenario pops up, the writers suggest that, "The librarian could take the chance to talk about the access barrier created by the spiraling costs of journal subscriptions...She could also bring up the concept of open access peer-reviewed journals" (83).

DEFINITION: BIO

Yago is an Argentine-American poet and librarian, fútbol cretin, and the poetry editor of Hinchas de Poesia, an online literary journal. His poetry has appeared in Lungfull!, Borderlands, COMBO, LIT, U.S. Latino Review, Exquisite Corpse, Field, Slope, and The New Orleans Review. He moderates the Spanglish blog, http://spicaresque.blogspot.com, and the Harlem Y Indoor Soccer League. Pressure Up, mongrels!

REVISION OF "KENT, OHIO FOR ADAM RISTOW"

The CAK is a godsend
because it makes sure
we don't have to Cleveland
The heathens of Ravenna
with their backwards ways
and their yokel hovels
The death of four students
embossed in the parking lot
with mystery cairns and quartz
headstones of ire yore
The Galley Boy at Swenson's
hamburger jerk rattling off
the 17 thick milk shake flavors
The Peanut Butter custard
at Stoddard's and the Triple XL
shirts with rustic lettering
Darlene, lonesome social
worker, in her gruesome milieu
at the heard-it-all-before
Robinson Hospital
And the Friend of friends
shape-shifted and converted
by ions of radiation
little chemo waves
that decimate the body
into reckoning.

"COUSINS" BY VAMPIRE WEEKEND

My friend Chris Schafer sent me the new Vampire Weekend album, "Contra." They have been compared to Paul Simon, especially Simon's album, Graceland. I think people are mostly right to intuit that connection; but, on the other hand, I am not sure Vampired Weekend has gained the right to be compared to this landmark album.

Note, I have only head Graceland recently in the past two to three years, but I still think it must definitely be remembered among the best albums of the mid 80's.

Initially, I thought that Graceland was written as a response to the civil war in Nicaragua, but it's actually inspired by gumboots like the Boyoyo Boys and west African rhythmic signatures, as well of course, American pop folk zydeco.

"Contra" is an ample canvas, there is a lot going on. But, Simon had to muster a connective narrative thread to unite the genres he was mashing. I mean in the title track he says, "I am following the river down the highway through the cradle of the Civil War", to reach the home of Elvis, the king of rock, the messiah of the Mississippi.

I am not sure Vampire Weekend are up there yet. I expect the fun of four effing barely old-enough-to-drink Columbia U yawpers having the time of their life writing songs with titles like Horchata, etc.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1e0u11rgd9Q

MY NEW FAVORITE ARTIST, COLIN SCHAFER

I have been told by the artist's father that this is an illustration of a pterodactyl. The artist calls me, in fact, pterodactyl after pulling a little stunt in a ridiculously tiny Thai funearal restaurant.

I was telling an anecdote about how on transcontinental flight little babies that are crying vociferously resemble like fleshy pterodactyls, and proceeded to rear my stupid head and give the funeral restaurant an auditory taste of what that sounds like.

My call summoned even the chefs in the back of this tiny Thai funeral restaurant.

PROOF THAT MY MAMA LOVES ME

ANOTHER MEETING, ANOTHER MUSING ON SECRET CAVE BASES

In this installment of "Secret Cave Bases" we will discuss submerged lairs, subterranean cave bases, and underground bivouacs. These most secret of the secret cave bases are special because their proprietors have placed an emphasis on location, location, and location. Now, submerged lairs can take the form of nuclear war bunkers, drainage and sewer defunct control rooms, and underground bivouacs. Let me give you some examples of submerged lairs. For example, the bunker that the gun-toting couple in "Tremors" own is an example, so is the super cool bunker that Christian Slater had in "Gleaming the Cube," although these sites were not used for the evil and malfeasance that secret cave bases are intended for. Usually, the secret cave bases that are designated as submerged lairs usually have an apocalyptic tinge to them so they usually have cans of peachers, pears, boxes of chocolate bars, and possibly even M.R.E.s (Meals Read to Eat). Also, ammunition is in abundance and are tarps, ropes, and canteens (both to hold water and gasoline). Now, depending on the species of secret cave base, there might be missile guidance or radar control system but submerged lairs are a little more on the raw side. By far, the most famous submerged lair or super secret cave base is Bruce Wayne's Batman Locker. From this spot, Bruce can monitor the city, route bad guys from their holes, and keep Gotham safe. Another famous person that totally has a super secret cave base and uses it to his advantage it Osama Bin Laden. His secret cave base is so secret that not even drones, interceptors, or manless reconaissance vultures can not find him. Now that I think about it, Osama Bin Laden and Bruce Wayne have many things in common: both are from affluent families, both have super secret cave bases, and both know how to manipulate and utilize the media.

ODE TO TEÓFILO CUBILLAS

Five goals in subsequent World Cups, eight years apart.
That’s like a six minute moon-mile followed by Marathon Calculus.
That’s like Pele calling you heir apparent at F.I.F.A.’s Drosophilia lab.
That’s like Messi leading you to the Ephedrine Caucus.

I say, always be wary of boyish-men that can evade aging pathogens.
Men they call Boy or Kid are flagrant eternalists— fugitives from codices of nature,
refugees from the Kingdom, commuters in an Appalachian parking lot.
As the facts sheets display, you made name in Mexico ’70 despite
Peru’s initial poor showing. And who could blame Peru, the squad left
Lima as the Earthquake Mammon began grumbling for peasant blood?

In fact, Peru vs. Bulgaria stands out in World Cup Annals especially
because Cubillas and Co. were able to rally back and best the Bulgarians
3-2 (after Bulgarians scored two in first half).
The real spectacle was that Cubillas and Co. were able to play at all
for the graphic yellow projectionists had descended on Mexico City
with news about the ghastly toll the earthquake gulched.

You see, the thing about Cubillas is that he proved he could not be stirred
or pressured into mistakes. Regardless of who he was megging, he moved
at a pace of his predeliction.

With that balón control he was saying, the onus is on you to route from me
control of this leather finesse. He was saying, perhaps your vocabulary
is a tiny bit insufficient for this largesse.