EILEEN MYLES: Harriet Blogger Par Excellence!

We’re hard on Harriet — I mean, we got treated pretty shabbily! But there are a whole lot of people there we’d stand up for wherever, and I mean stand up for and fight!

And one of them is Eileen Myles, who is actually past her expiry date on Harriet and still blogging, hurrah! And the interesting thing about Eileen, of course, is that she always gets everything that matters right were it belongs, down on the bottom line. Like? Yeah, you guessed it. Apartments!

So this is a little thanks to Eileen from the denizens of Scarriet, who got such a lot from her, and want to sit down and talk with her about it a little bit more.

Eileen Site Grab

Like this, hot in the old e-mail tray from you know whom:

“The only other thing i wanted to say, but thought i wouldn’t as it is one of those things like ‘racism’ sexcism, this ism that ism – basically, not focus soley on the actress. Mainly because chicks make us with dicks, often idiots drooling, so the best would be to cut her, she’s had the welcome, now bat on as usual, according all bores at the previous dump, equal showtime. ~ Des.”

And by contrast, look what Gary Fitzgerald replies to Eileen on Harriet: “Way past time to get over yourself, isn’t it, Myles?”

What I mean by this is why do you have to wear your homosexuality on your sleeve like it’s…I don’t know…the Medal of Honor or a big red ‘A’ or something? What do these personal details contribute to poetry, after all? I think most people are sick and tired of this ‘us and them’ bullshit: gay and straight, black and white, liberal and conservative, rich and poor, cool and uncool. Why would any poet want to compartmentalize and limit themselves like that? ‘Gay’ poet, ‘Feminist poet’, ‘Latino’ poet, ‘Political’ poet. Can’t we just be poets? Jeez, get over it.

So what do you think? Did we go over the top with Amber Tamblyn? And what do you think about the Barbie School of poetry? Does Jorie Graham’s hair matter, like in contrast, say, to Eileen’s? And do you think this will get discussed on Harriet?


  1. poetryandporse said,

    October 5, 2009 at 8:28 am

    Equal billing, everyone who is in the US of who we are here at Scarriet: readers’ words, dib dib dob, god bless the untited states, and may god bless everyone at the gulag, future happiness in everything they attempt as a vehicle to Pleasantsville in the county of Steadiness, trading polite, meaningless verbs that do not exist; neologism and inventiveness, freely between all bores: let us pray for the disunited state of play at the foundational exchange, where one liners make plain: uncredible, no critical fizz.

    I feel a bit sorry for everyone there now, even though i was treated like a slave by the overseer, vartis the main, wasn’t it?

    Ratsiv’s deal seemed to be, do not speak who we are.

    I think it’s important we don’t become too silly about this. Mind, i did go a bit heavy lampooning vartis the main myself, and fear for any future success as the dollar words, because of prejudice and the silent stilleto being stuck right into my heart and head. I was so happy there at Harriet. Things were so great when I was free, in the good old days. Next year, in spring say, perhaps later, maybe even till this time next year, or who knows, beyond into forever: i might still be depressed about how unfairly Al, Chris and Tom were treated by vartis the main. Who knows? Not me.

    But then, after saying all that, Harriet was hardly important to me; so i can’t get too upset, in all reality, about any of the names who appear there. Equal billing is you and me, the reader and maybe a few fans, fawning over the autograph table, asking us to signature their foreheads, over the internet, purchasing the poetry, the form of exchange between dollar and euro, yen and Ezra pounding at the station

    in need of education in the rain

    with BY billing equally the stones, in the mist
    of it all, feeling tall, being yourself and zero

    he rowing US, come on Eileen, Oh i know you’re a queen
    at this moment, you mean



    American red-green-amber sequence of a light within
    me: American dream, not gone wrong, Cordle Graves,

    $words and Woodman

    holy isle

  2. cowpattyhammer said,

    October 5, 2009 at 8:32 am

    So way back on September 12th, 2009, Eileen was already tired. Harriet was tired, the posters were tired, and Travis was tired trolling – he hadn’t found Amber yet, you see.

    So Eileen wrote an article about being tired and blogged it, which meant posting her tiredness, on Harriet right here.

    It was called “Intimate in Pace,” which at first I thought referred to the gait of her style which is always a bit like running hurdles and not knocking one single one down and coming in for gold hardly out of breath. Then I realized it was really Latin.

    So Eileen wrote, and I’m quoting here, “I’m trying to cure myself of the blogging late in the month syndrome PARTICULARLY because this month is my last month of blogging. To get to the quick of it I think well why am I not blogging now. Well because I have a new book and I’m obsessed in a way that figures directly on that reality so I’m not blogging directly on my new book so I’m not blogging. But that’s crazy because I think one intimate aspect of blogging is figuring out how to write about what you are doing.”

    And what you have to understand about Gary’s attitude toward homosexuality is that he has a thing about frogs. That’s why he replied to the above passage like this (you have to click to show the comment – don’t forget that or you might think he didn’t care):

    (click to hide comment)
    You hate frogs, don’t you?
    You hate punctuation, don’t you?
    You hate paragraphs, don’t you?

    “What do you mean by frogs?” Eileen answered, sensibly I’d say. ON SEPTEMBER 14, 2009 AT 11:20 AM for a +1.

    “My mistake,” says Gary, “…sorry. I was referring to a post from back in June but when I started searching for the title I discovered it was by Annie Finch. She was camping in New York and you were hiking in Colorado at about the same time. I got mixed up.” POSTED BY: GARY B. FITZGERALD ON SEPTEMBER 14, 2009 AT 12:29 PM

    Not to be impressed even by that level of genius, our Terreson, our on-line specialist in Pee on Fire (click to see the pee on fire here), was right off the mark. “Well,” he wrote, “by now I hope I am at last on Harriet’s shortlist of posters to get shunned. Because it seems to me that any blogger here understands that she is writing to her peers, to other writers, poets, wordsmiths, and thinkers, and that I am a real writer too. From my standpoint, to be less than honest would be intellectually dishonest, and I fully expect to be banned for saying so!” POSTED BY: TERRESON ON SEPTEMBER 13, 2009 AT 11:42 PM

    He then went on to address poor Eileen’s distress: “This is not just bad writing,” says Terreson, “it is perfectly vacant. Of ideation. Of expression. Of skill. Of that mostest thing every poet should demand of herself, duende. [N.B. that clever word “mostest,” which must have made Travis Nichols really burn. And “duende?” Oh, the courage! But most of all the pronoun — which is Lesbian of course, showing how much he really has poor Eileen’s condition right at heart.]

    “I honestly don’t get it,” Terreson concluded. “If this is what the current poetry scene calls good writing, and good thinking, I really don’t get it. Seriously. As a reader, what am I to take away from the blog when I wake up tomorrow?” POSTED BY: TERRESON ON SEPTEMBER 13, 2009 AT 11:42 PM

    For that Terreson got a -7, all red, but he still didn’t manage to get banned. He tried really hard that time, but he just couldn’t quite make it.

    It may also have been because Eileen put in a good word for him with Travis, which must have hurt. She also wrote to Terreson himself like this: “Yeah, mainly I think you shouldn’t have to sleep before you think. You could be awake reading. Try it.” That was a good idea. It was helpful without being punitive. POSTED BY: EILEEN MYLES ON SEPTEMBER 14, 2009 AT 11:23 AM

    That was the moment when Jill came in and said, “Jeez, Terreson, you are such a grouch! Who cares if you don’t like it? Move on. You don’t get it. Nuff said. Eileen’s post is great stuff–a slice of mind from a poet in action, on tour, reading, doing all the things you aren’t. Read and learn,” and she got +2 for that, and rightly so. POSTED BY: JILL ON SEPTEMBER 14, 2009 AT 10:08 AM

    And John Simon Oliver finished up the thread for a +2 with: “I agree with Jill. Eileen is manifesting her poetry in the world, which is part of the gig, of the vocation. And she reflects, right-sized as she can be, on the event.” POSTED BY: JOHN SIMON OLIVER ON SEPTEMBER 14, 2009 AT 10:13 AM

    Which I think pretty well answers all your questions about Harriet, men and women, and the vagaries of on-line poetry masochism – the distinctions in the above case are, of course, exceedingly delicate.

    Christopher Woodman

  3. thomasbrady said,

    October 5, 2009 at 1:55 pm

    In Hollywood, we always ask, who’s the star’s mate, who is the star dating–or, in the terminology of David Cross who wrote right on his latest book jacket–exactly who is the star f*cking?

    But here, in poetry land, we don’t care.

    But we should. We should, my frembs.

    Because pootry is lurv songs.

    The tresses of Jorie Graham and the homosexuality of Sir Myles ARE the pootry.

    It is time for the milquetoasts to step aside and let poetry sing scandal, hatred, f*cking, and lurv.

    Hollywood makes a botch of it anyway, those glossy magazines like US are only interesting for the pictures; the stories and personalities are dreary and boring.

    Not that act-ors are NOT im-poor-taunt.

    They ARE.

    The first poets WERE actors and the first actors WERE poets.

    Think–how COULD the first bard have been a bard with NO actors, and how could the first actor have been an actor with NO bards? Back in time, they MUST have been the SAME.

    What I speak is the truth: Amber, the young actress, who spare-time dabbles in pootry, embodies poetry the SAME as Prize-winning, Professors, Jorie Graham, Marie Howe and Lucie Brock-Broido, and this should be NO SURPRISE.

    It is nice enough, the pootry of these passionate women.

    But poets can and should do better. They can sing of the horror better. Like Mr. Poe did.

    But not as long as the dainty, theory-sh*t, p.c., prize-y, blurb-y milquetoasts run da show.

    Myles is good because she speaks her MINE, even to attack that nasty pedantic bore, Robert Pinsky, student of Yvor Winters, another pedantic pasty at the Stanford ‘Stepford’ U. Creative ‘Righting’ Program.

    So, yea, I’ll raise a glass to Sir Myles…

  4. thomasbrady said,

    October 5, 2009 at 2:27 pm


    Eileen Myles is not on this site, but Amber is, and so is Jorie Graham, Mark Strand, Billy Collins, Paul Muldoon, Franz Wright, Kim Addonizio, Robert Pinsky, and a host of Slam champions doing live readings.

    Here is where ACTING and POETRY intersect, and what struck me watching these is how repulsive and awful they are–I can barely stand to watch most of these videos for more than a few seconds.

    One of the few I COULD watch was Amber’s, only because she had an actor’s poise.

    Pinsky had a certain amount of poise, but one is also aware that he possesses a poisonous glare, and the arrogant pedantry–such as when he spits out the syllable, ‘book’– is vomit-producing; one feels this seething fury of pedantic arrogance glowing from the man–it’s truly horrible.

    In most of these videos, which I found unwatchable, poetry fails as theatre, and thus fails, and fails miserably. Poems we loved on the page dribble or spit from human mouths and the result is grotesque.

    The slam poets, most of them, are even worse, if that’s possible, giving us a hateful, hammering, shrill, uneasy mixture of politics and song which is absolutely monstrous. This must be what poetry in hell is.

    I did find slammer Taylor Mali’s piece well-done, but this is clearly rhetoric, not poetry.

    But check them out.

    See what you think.

  5. cowpattyhammer said,

    October 5, 2009 at 2:27 pm

    Me too — and Eileen, I hope your listening. These glasses we three are lifting are all brimmed over just for you!

    Hear the diction on the roll, the dice, the dicks, the dykes, all marching to the ancient, new world symphony, the Yankee Doodle on the fife, the Deuteronomy on sax and bass on Didgeridoo!


  6. poetryandporse said,

    October 5, 2009 at 3:40 pm

    Some big little kids moved into my neighborhood
    they don’t do nothing right just sitting down and look so dim
    y’all don’t wanna go to school and learn to read and write
    Just surf around the blogs and chat that rock and roll bollox all night

    Well, I put the drop to teacher’s air
    Shuttered up in gwailers lair
    No Jah ta, behoove yourself.

    Post every harriet blog on the Scarriet stand
    Every dim that we get, ooh – tis blogger the bardics plan
    Well we worry their ollamhs till at night, yo ready to poop
    From rocking and a-rolling, conning not the cooler crew

    Well this poetry has got to stop
    Nobells head is hard as rock
    Now foet, let pray yourself


    i$ there any poet there alive who’d tell my story
    of how this what is love it came to pass

    Fawns the kind of thing you want enough
    It makes you study
    Thus you don’t omit a $ingle fact

    A grrrrrrlll

    When I think of all the times I’ve tried so hard to make it
    Will they turn to me and start to buy;
    If the promises here made by me
    They’d not believe in
    After all his silence in the dock

    wail air
    hail herr
    ah jwailer

    bah howaya huya

    dreary and/or boring.

    Not that actors are NOT im-poor-taunt

    They ARE we who know it’s only faux

    the first of us who knew the poet $ow


    were actors and the first actors, were poets
    would you like to buy us all a drink


    Nnnnaaahhhhh fanx,

    shtick for you shmok hoola
    ho ho ha.

    lurve y’all mega

  7. cowpattyhammer said,

    October 6, 2009 at 8:26 am

    from Blog:Harriet:

    [click to show comment]
    I really don’t know who is diss-liking me here but…
    you win!

    God as my witness, I will never be back. You can catch me on Amazon.com., but never here again.


    Fuck you.


  8. poetryandporse said,

    October 6, 2009 at 12:03 pm

    I read the news today

    oh Gaazz

    About a lucky man who made the grade

    And though our presence there is barred
    Well, we just had to flarf

    we saw the bro-foe Gaazz

    He blew his mind out on a blog

    He didn’t notice that the lights had changed

    Several posters reading Gaaazz
    They’d seen it all before

    Nobody was really sure if he was from the house of York

    A poet gassed today, oh boy
    Amir’s army had just won the WaR

    A crowd of bloggers turned to fans
    and they just had to look
    Having read of us

    We love to turn you on.

    dis-like, dis-like, dis-like lurve y’all

    I am active on the main-sites in New York, Chicago, Normal, London, Brunswick, Philly, LA, Paris, Dublin and Rome, Santiago, Buenos Aires, Adelaide, Melbourne, Ayres Rock and Sydney, Wellington, Jersey, Newark, Dallas and Daar es Salem

    da da!

    Fitz striking in surgical outrage
    making reality hits, global reader

    foo ships da main newer didlle
    doh dye, rolly poly-themed,

    Ameri-english haven of peace
    the improvised road-can tick tock,

    explodes into: hexa-dollar carnage
    scene, the eight by eight blog scholar,

    brilliant da da! hits y’all, eternal raw

    merciless triple platinum soul-shod

    art what trills, bardic adder, dA dA

    in the fizz, Fitz fixes
    a mixer, being the news

    today oh boy

    Wake up, get off the thread
    Train your mind so it can work

    Find a way to write and make it up
    And look within, you’ll noticed it is good
    Find the switch and flick it on


    Wow Wow
    foetry now

    know all

    po-biz collapses

    in the editorial
    le mons


    in seconds flat