A Salon piece about Bolivian coca leaves in food products and the U.N.'s narcotics ban on all coca leaf products.
I did some coca leaf chewing in the Atacama. The women who guided me carried pouches full of the brittle leaves, and gave me some to cope with the altitude when my heart was racing and I went dizzy and thought I might die. Old Andean trick, they said.
It can't always have meaning but you find a little pattern and it gets stuck in your head like a tune. Take this one: There are three men, dear to me, all of them blind in one eye, all of them poets. Jim Harrison, Robert Creeley, and my father's father, who made every joke he told a kind of poem.
Here's an mp3 of Creeley reading The Hole, which I heard him read in Boston one time, and which prompted me to research Fatty Arbuckle.
bit of a Francoise Hardy marathon in Los Angeles this week
You can see pages from Alison Knowles's book here. Vernon Hinkle's performance is funny, and starts on page 9.
"Lettuce is shredded. Lettuce has always been a problem. Someday someone will create small, bitesize heads of lettuce. But here, in the dark ages, lettuce is shredded"