Jim Trainer

“Bodies never lie.”

In Uncategorized on December 5, 2019 at 11:00 am
THIS POST WAS WRITTEN ON NOVEMBER 23, 2019

When Jordan slithers out from under his rock each morning, dons a shirt and tie–sans the jacket, lest he be mistaken for Joe McCarthy–his life’s work is to besmirch everything America stands for in service of Donald Trump.
Good Guy Brent Larkin

At the expense of a massive debt to them of half a million dollars, they really helped us to grow.
-Conrad Keely, …And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

But today Devo is merely the house band on the Titanic.
Gerald Casale

Sometimes I don’t know where this dirty road is taking me
sometimes I can’t even see the reason why…
-Townes Van Zandt

Hallo.  Trainer here.  I’m attempting something I’ve hardly ever done and that is front load blog posts for when things get crazy.  Not that shit ain’t batshit now but all the more so, in the coming weeks–4 doubles in a row, Christmas party after Christmas party, printing and binding 550 books and flying across the country are all on the dais and it’s a good thing I’m insane otherwise I’d lose my mind.  January will be dead city and though I hope to be working full time by then it’ll be an opportunity to write and cultivate a Yoga practice, maybe.  Otherwise plan the next jaunt–OH, CAN, AMS and GUATE.  It goes on Good Reader until it doesn’t.  I told you I’d publish 10 books in 10 years and that’s only the beginning of everything I’d like to undertake before I hit 50.  If you haven’t figured it out I’m making up for lost time.  Strangely the time seems to burn by, and faster, when I’m this active.  At least it seemed like I had all the time in the world when I was in my 20s and 30s and waitin’ round to die.  Death seemed far off back then or I acted like it was.  My 20s were bourbon and love and my 30s only differed when I began to wonder if running and gunning was all there was and anyway getting fucked up and fucked.  Sex and drugs and rock and roll was always a dumb story and maybe now we see how prescient the end of the 60s really was.  Not only that but that punkrock is maybe a middle class phenomenon and no underground or street politic will change or alter what’s coming now.

It’s unrepentantly sad, alarming and grotesque that it’s sown up and we blew it bad but I’ll still go out tonight and go to work tomorrow.  I touched on this on my last front-loaded post.  There’s a heavy why to every endeavor now.  Perhaps all the moreso because there isn’t any answer.  I don’t know why we should go on but I know we will.  Until we can’t and we hit the wall and we’re evicted of her beauty and exiled of God’s bounty forever and gone.  The human experiment fails.  We pass this age and the next one passes us.  We lay long like stone past the stars last bright shimmy.  We’re gone the air, gone the mountain, gone the river and the lake, gone the whatfor and aggrandized, gone the grief, gone the backyard, gone the children, the skinheads at the railroad track in the thick, beat suburban night, gone the Marlboro reds in the Fall, the beer and the wine, gone the wild laughter, meditation, the gesture, animal and song, gone the cup, the ride over and after everything we planned and coveted, all we squirreled or shared, after every dread and small fear, every stroke and fawn, after every triumph, tremor and tumult fade and get rubbed out and peeled off it won’t matter if I’ve published 10 books or none, if I write poetry or personal journalism or Part 21 of The Coarse Grind.  It won’t matter if I loved you or saw you and looked you in the eye but I’ll do it anyway.  A book a year every year for 10 or until I can’t, and arms for you and eyes and ears and lips.  Come close and let’s clutch to each other Good Reader, let’s go down together, with beauty and ire, out from this dream of life onto the fevered wings of death and fire, into this diaphanous unspooling of the myth, let’s get flung and heaved and kiss it all goodbye.

2031, JIM TRAINER’S SIXTH FULL-LENGTH COLLECTION OF POETRY, IS AVAILABLE NOW THROUGH YELLOW LARK PRESS.  NO COMEBACKS BY WILL STENBERG IS AVAILABLE NOW THROUGH YELLOW LARK PRESS.
ORDER YOUR COPIES HERE.
PLEASE JOIN US AT THE RELEASE FOR THESE TITLES, FOR A READING AND SPECIAL NIGHT OF POETRY AND SPOKEN WORD AT BATCH NEXT WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 11
AND AT
SPECK’S RECORDS IN PORTLAND, OR ON WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 18.  

SHARE THE POEM OF THE WEEK ON SOCIAL MEDIA AND I’LL WRITE YOU A POEM!

SEND ME YOUR ADDRESS AND I’LL WRITE YOU A LETTER!

PART 21 OF THE COARSE GRIND, MY MONTHLY COLUMN ON THE CREATIVE LIFE, IS LIVE AT INTO THE VOID.

Stay tuned for news on these releases, readings and broadsides from each collection, designed by Snakes Will Eat You and letter pressed at the Austin Book Arts Center.

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