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 ČERVENÁ BARVA PRESS NEWSLETTERGloria Mindock, Editor   Issue No. 100   May, 2020
 INDEX  May, 2020 Cervena Barva Press NewsletterWelcome to the May Newsletter. Next month, there will be virtual readings by Cervena Barva Press. 
Two readings this summer are sponsored by Tipp City Public Library in Ohio. 
Thank you to Marc Zegans (The Snow Dead, Cervena Barva Press, 2020) 
for putting me in touch with the librarian in Tipp City. I am so excited about 
all the readings that are going to happen. Stay tuned. 
 Interviewed this month are Mbizo Chirasa and DeWitt Henry. 
 Bill and I are still busy working on putting the used books online in The Lost Bookshelf. 
It is a slow process but we are working on it.   
   I am so happy to bring you this interview from Zimbabwe. Mbizo speaks out about his country, 
fighting for change, and social justice. Writing can make a difference. Mbizo is brave and courageous. 
I am honored to interview him. When did you first start writing?I began writing in the late primary school period.   I was in Grade six at Zvegona Primary School. My class teacher was 
literally blessed. He loved reading and arts. Mr. Basvi headed our school drama club. I was a staunch member and organizer 
of that sterling youthful drama club. You know we lived in dust laden, poverty ridden rural settings and newspapers were a 
luxury to our community lot. Major things tucked in most parents mind was food supplies, planting seasons, Mugabe rallies,
traditional ceremonies and school uniforms. Fortunately  my teacher  brought me new  and old newspaper every time he  went 
to the nearby district town of  Zvishavane. I grazed through acres of stories in those papers like a ravenous hyena. I swigged 
the beverages of political vibe   accompanied with a refreshment of humor on entertainment and court sections of Gweru Times 
and Ziana News. Literary insignia was automatically glued on my mental plaque and my DNA got dipped in poetic vibe. My father 
shaped readership culture, he taught me a lot of grammatical signals at a very tender age.  Despite living in squalid rural 
settings. I romanced and slept with any form of reading on my lap, whenever I was angry, I would run into a book to escape 
the devil of anger and stress. I wrote my first poem based on ENVIROMENTAL issues on the demise of   vegetation through 
deforestation with afforestation. My first great recital was at a District World Environmental Day Celebrations. I won 
the heart of then Zvishavane District Education Officer Hlambelo, who then decided to help I look after his cattle and 
ploughed fields during holidays I became a young shepherd in the pastures and terrains of Ngomeyabani  every school holiday. 
I read voraciously while manning the large head of the cattle. After holidays owned by the District Education Officer. And 
he had large library of books and newspapers. When it was back to school time, he would buy me me new uniforms, shoes and 
other school paraphernalia. That motivated me greatly. The griot in me grew rapdly, I read Animal Farm and Mayor of Casterbridge. 
I got very much inspired and then followed Things Fall Apart and The River Between as well as Crime and Punishment by a great 
Russian author, Interesting literature. I was baptized into the into the poetic dominion when Langston Hughes, Maya Angelou, 
Jack Mapanje, Musayemura Zimunya, Dambudzo Marechera And the Metaphysics, John Donne, Keats and Yeats, Emily Dickson and the 
writing expedition though feeble, unnoticed but growing. In MID 1996 WHEN I was worked Zimbabwe's former Ambassador to 
Yugoslavia, KD Manyika in Gweru third largest city of Zimbabwe in the Midlands Province, I multitasked  as a cattle herder 
in the large paddock, gardening and manning fowl runs ,the daily rhythm accompanied with these humble but great responsibilities 
is amazing. These duties taught  me and shaped  my being a lot in life . Every time when I go delivering in city shops, 
I would pass through Gweru Times dropping my Letter to the Editor or Opinion pieces. I was overjoyed and got a column. 
Thanks to the great Dukes Mwanaka, the then Editor of Gweru Times and Oliver Shambira, the then Deputy Editor. Interesting years. 
Humble beginnings. The Manyika family had a more bigger library, every I swept and dusted the library, I would take volumes of 
Victorian Poetry.  I was introduced to Shakespeare Writings, TS Elliot, DH Lawrence and I also grazed through the 
Canterbury Tales. A more over my village carried with it a poetic rhythm, I was rondavels when growing sat the edges of a 
Dayataya Mountains adjacent to Zvagona hills.  I enjoyed the beauty of mist clad Dayataya, birds sang incessantly as if 
responding to the echoes of ever yelping baboons were a common feature in our land. Monkeys Facebooked on tree branches 
like rock rabbits jiving to the discord of laughing hyenas as wild hens quacked tenor in synch to the soprano of Mutorahuku 
stream while our mothers with the armed with zeal and loyalty to their homestead thrashing and grinding millet in wood mortars  
to brew the beloved  village beverage, traditional beer. Drunks, scumbags and talented singers drank the brew to the dregs, 
their stupor griped hymns and songs carried succulent rhythm and fat meanings. The accompaniment of my the village rhythm, 
reading culture and stories of my father carved a griot in me as much global views and political affairs are other ingredients 
to the balanced of my writing career. The rest is now history. Who are the biggest influences in your life?   My father was a great storyteller. He told me many stories about Zululand, Clansmen stories, African cultural anthropologies, 
detailed histories of the world. We read an English and Shona novel every evening before sleeping. So, the art of story telling 
stories was carved into my heart cave long time ago, during my teething ages. Poetry was injected into my DNA like BCG and 
I became a poem myself and later a poet. I believe every poet is a living poem before he becomes a poet. I am influenced by 
the village rhythm, the chirruping of small birds over soot- clad rondavels, the soprano of doves as they imitate angels of 
dawn towards sunrise. The footsteps of the sun as gigantic rays walk over horizons in a triumphant march like battalions to 
war. I cherish to see mountains dressed in grey gowns of mist and pastures donning the heavy green like military Jackets, the 
baritone sound of yelping baboons on the fontanel of our hills of home, Facebooking of monkeys on top of three canopies, the 
jiving of rock rabbits, the beat of rain thunder, the stitch of lightning bolts on our  gyrating earth. I love the smell of 
cow under milk, the scent of grass soot dangling on rondavel roofs inside out. The ceremonial and traditional village songs 
are part of the catalytic influences to my writing, poetry and griot career. As I carried my bag sagging with traditional hymns, 
village rhythms and the scent of village smoke, I got into the city where life is a competition, I learnt the language of hustle 
and bustle in Harare, the city of no sleep. I got a lot to write about, hermits vomiting the snort of illicit beer remains on 
street pavements without restraint, harlots mad chasing potbellied sex imbeciles in the thickets of night, fake prophets cheating 
and raping their miracle hungry clue-less congregants. Politicians preaching peace during daylight and kill at night. Propaganda 
songs rattling from impoverished and congested suburbs were voters feed on plain porridge and stale bread. And even after voting 
to the from resounding victory of the ruling regime, beggars making more children despite the famishing challenges of hard rock city 
life. Sisters pimping 
their dignity for political party positions and the next in dingy brothels. slogan chants, gun shots and baby dumping episodes, 
Big chinned political imbeciles promising famished youth vast tracks of land later to dump them after rewarding them with drugs 
and alcohol. Presidential motorcade swirling dust into the face of pedestrians queuing for meal-mealie.  As I indicated, the 
journey to maturation is trailblazing festooned by resilience, faith, dedication and goal getting. I read a lot of books from 
crime, fairy tales, fantasy, journalistic, biblical and several African anthropological texts. I am influenced by African griots 
in South Africa, West Africa.  The former Zimbabwe International book fair was a great exhibition of talents, so I met several 
WRITERS including the author of Cows of Shambati Taban Liyo Long. I shared a performance poetry stage with Mutabaruka and other 
great names. The Zimbabwe media shaped and influenced me  greatly for they supported me through profiling  articles and they 
followed my performances with great literary zeal.  By the way I began  as a spoken word poet, a griot and then I sort to expand 
my wings for global market reach, thus why me and you are chatting now. It has a been a great but an arduous journey. Decades of 
washing in sweat and bathing in salt tears. While in Harare, I worked alongside the great Charles Mungoshi, Tsitsi  Dangaembwa, 
David Mungoshi, Memory Chirere, Dudziro Nhengu, Shimmer Chinodya and many great voices. I salute. What is the writing community like in Zimbabwe?We have abundant talent. Talent is like a pot of stew puffing out the scent of goat meat, we are a country blessed with 
Protest poets, griots and underground poets as well as revolutionary poets.  We boast of great writers and doyens of literature. 
A lot have received prestigious awards home and abroad. The likes of Dambudzo Charles Marechera, author of House of Hunger won 
the Prestigious Guardian Prize in the early 80s. Charles Mungoshi, storytelling meastro won the Commonwealth Prize with his great 
Novel Waiting of the Rain.  Tsitsi Dangarembwa won scholarships home and abroad with her first classical Nervous Conditions. 
Shimmer Chinodya won Visiting Writer Program at a prestigious Lewis Clark University in USA and also won NOMA  award with his 
thriller Harvest of Thorns. These are some of our acclaimed writing voices of Zimbabwe.  We have a whole rising writers also 
doing well with their new modern styles to mention Brian Chikwava, the winner of 2005 Caine Prize  with his captivating 
narrative Seventh Street Alchemy, Memory Chirere and Writer Publisher Ignatius Mabasa, with his famous Shona Novel Mapenzi 
rocking the world and included as one  of Africas 100 Best Books.  Not to be outdone is Chirikure Chirikure, our spokenword 
poetry maestro. Today the writing and literary arts community has fallen into dark times. Everything is upside down, 
publishing houses have since closed shop, there is rampant pirating of books and writers are greatly impoverished and 
their reputation has gone to the dogs.  I can say writers and few remaining organizations are trying rekindle the dead 
literary fire. The government systems are not doing to revive the literary arts terrain of the country, improve readership 
culture, education literature sector and restore dignity to lives of writers and the book  industry. We have few organizations 
that are  rising at least to bandage scars of our failure and are trying their best during these dark days that include LitFest 
Harare founded by great poet Chirikure Chirikure, now to have a full year Calendar and their program covers all provinces in the 
country. British Council Zimbabwe does a number of 
poetry readings and literary arts activities. Pamberi Trust is also doing lineups of Poetry Slams and  Literary Arts 
Culture Workshops in Harare and Mutare. The Zimbabwe Germany Society continues to host  a number of  book launches, 
discussions and readings. The only remaining sound and established publishing house is WEAVER PRESS owned by Writer 
Publisher and Editor Irene Staunton. A lot of budding writers has since ventured into self-publishing. Times are bad. You have spoken up against injustice and dictatorship in your country.
Have there been any threats on your life because of this? I would think this would make you a target. 
Have you known any artist that have disappeared or been killed?  It is a common norm that in any African country if you speak truth to political power and justice to autocracy  or 
speak human rights to the  dictatorship, you become a target and usually you have to take an option of living in exile 
or you to silence yourself before you get silenced. The Zimbabwean system does not take Arts Activists and Human Rights 
Defenders lightly, a lot of mechanism are always put in place to track, to silence, to threaten or imprisoning dissenting 
voices. Yes I became a target, I was attacked by an electric gadget set in my sleeping house on the 4th of December 2016 
that was followed by incessant tracking and stalking as well as threats, I changed places for more than 4 times in 3 months 
and then I decided to leave. It's not easy to be a VOICE OF THE PEOPLE in my country and other countries we know. It calls 
for boldness, bravery and resilience. It is public knowledge that Itai Dzamara, a stauchy human rights defender, writer, 
journalist  disappeared after a lot of one man demonstration against the late President Mugabes regime, he wanted the president 
to resign, those who witnessed his abduction say he was bundled in a number plateless vehicle and he was never seen again. 
The Zimbabwe Human Rights have to do a beat to find out about this comrade. Alas nothing up to now Many dissenting voices 
died during the genocidal 2008 elections including journalists and activists. But we need to continue to speak hard truth to 
corrupt systems that thrive on abusing the POVO through cheap propaganda laced doctrines and systems that do not respect human 
rights and violate the living rights of its own people. Poor and bad governance, the value of our currency, the value of banks, 
the dignity of our voters, the integrity of our people is lost completely, many people live like scavengers. And we speak still 
and write still. Time shall come and Time heals more calamine lotion or paracetamol. Being a voice for the innocent is vital. When did you become aware of what was going on in your country and speaking up against it? 
and with your writing?After the death of JOSHUA Nkomo, father Zimbabwe in 1999, Zimbabwe fell into bad times. Our leadership used land invasion 
gig not as way to redeem the people of their hunger to land and natural resources. Alas the Mugabes regimes weapon to remain 
in power and land issue was handled badly. They were a lot abnormalities, a lot of killings, displacements. Political charlatans 
took advantage to loot the land and everything it. That  created a lot of diplomatic gaffes, we lost international trust, 
friendships and important trade deals due to political leadership and lack of sound domestic affairs management. The economy 
crumbled, corruption became rampant, we suffered  a lot of  diseases including cholera and other deadly endemics, typhoid, 
dysentery and HIV/AIDS, while the masses were suffering leadership was globetrotting, squandering the few revenue resources 
of the country, hoarding cars and building Mansions  home and abroad. Zimbabwe became unbankable. VOICES OF REASON were maimed 
and silenced, human rights abused, activists imprisoned, we were not a loud to speak. I wrote protest and resistance poetry 
to international journals since 2006, the system didn't get a whiff of it that time but with time due to the essence and growth 
of diverse digital media platforms, I suspect and am sure they found my writings and  literary arts activism activities were 
discovered with such,  you are automatically dubbed enemy of the state.  Even now the Zimbabwean economy requires a miracle 
to survive, 80 percent of the people are suffering under the yoke of economic malaise and the bondage of political decadence, 
we have to work hard to return to the bread basket of Africa status. The national leadership need to put stern measures on 
corruption, money laundering and oil barons. Many economic saboteurs are walking free, while masses are writhing under the 
yoke of poverty and bondage of perjury. if we are not careful, we slithering into becoming Banana or Cassava Republic.  Have you tried to have another country help you with political exile?I have a lot of Comrade Supporters locally and abroad and just recently I received a six months Freedom of Speech 
Scholarship from the Germany PEN through their Foundation of Free Speech and Writers in Exile Program. I want to pass 
my profound and heart felt thank you to my Literary Arts Activism Partner Jamie Dedes, the Founder of Bezine Arts and 
Humanities as well as The POET A DAY Webzine has been and she is tirelessly working hard to find me safe harbor on top 
of that I got a lot of  goodwill and care from  a  number of organizations, including Artists at Risk Connection, Free-muse. 
I thank Thomas Block and the International HUMAN RIGHTS Art Festival for appointing the inaugural international Fellow me in 
2019 that was a great eye opener and a wonderful opportunity for me. Above, I would like thank my illustrious publisher of the 
book A LETTER TO THE PRESIDENT, Mwanaka Media Publishing led by the ICONIC Tendai Rinos Mwanaka. I salute great goodwill from 
comrades around the world and Africa, some chipped in with internet bills, accommodation bills, traveling and other upkeep bills. 
I thank you all supporters, friends and comrades. Brother Keepers Beatrice Othieno Ahere, Samuella Conteh, Omwa Ombara, 
Nancy Ndeke, Tracy Yvonne Breazile, Elke Lange, Munia Khan, Corina Ravenscraft, Rebecca Robinson, Martina Mwanza, 
Robson Shoes Lambada, July Westhale, publishers of journals, Zines and reviews. A shout to Comrade Nsah Mala and more 
comrades. The issue of my exile stay is in pipeline. A big shout to the Poetry Chef Comrade Dr. Michael Dickel. 
Aluta Continua, Together We Rise. Discuss "Letter to the President?"  A LETTER TO THE PRESIDENT is experimental writing in style combined with the hard truth against  super power supremacy, 
African dictatorship regimes. It is a poetic whip to the unrepentant pseudo revolutionaries rotting the state with corruption 
to the core, the poetic verses in there spit into the  remorseless fat cats, big chefs sleeping during  parliamentary sessions 
and sometimes wield  fist fights like pick pocketers while masses are rotting with disease and hunger. It is a weapon of mass 
instruction, was written as a chronicle of political, economic decadent in my country first and other countries. It speaks against 
xenophobia, Afrophobia.  It a story of the people and for the people sharply angling on the unbalanced state of the world. It is 
chlorine to clean murky waters of economic malaise and disinfect the country from the dirty mud of political decadence.  We fear 
to be killed when we say the truth but I have decided contain my fears and bravery in a book form. This collection itself is 
different in delivery, presentation and scope. It is a scholarship of global and African political patterns, a social justice 
commentary and insignia of freedom of expression while we fail to enjoy freedom after expression. I suffered threats and scurry 
stalking in Zambia after the launch of A Letter to the President, it tells you our political elites are still in fear of the voices 
that chronicle and tell the truth to power, it gives you  a clear indication that democracy is just a word easily spoken but not acted. 
Actors of democracy are scarce. I implore political science students and those studying political histories, Arts and humanities to 
graze this my nerve shredding poetry collection, Yes, the verbatim and the vibe in there is scurry but you know truth is always scurry, 
few people wants the truth. A LETTER TO THE PRESIDENT  is a fusion of spoken word and page poetry, influenced by the  hardships we 
experienced with our parents after independence and how they walk to rallies to wait for a politician who will bring them a 2kg 
of rice after a full day of scorching sun and rumbling stomachs and after those daunting rallies, the politician will disappear 
into the clouds with a furnished and secured helicopter  while masses walk for  distances back home empty handed  but armed with 
fake promises, anger and slogan smacked faces. A Letter to the President talks to the president to repent, any president, 
every president who is not doing the right thing. It seeks leadership to rethink, to restart, to reform, like in Zimbabwe we 
need corruption top stop ASAP, we need the worker to be restored his/her dignity, we need cash barons, oil barons and killers of 
the economy to nabbed, we want a  robust approach to the governing of the country, A leadership that respect artistic voices, human  
rights defenders and other actors of positive activism, let the country restore the integrity of the masses, people have suffered 
for long time now. A LETTER TO THE PRESIDENT. Recently, there has been an uprising and many have been shot while protesting. There has been an invasion of privacy, 
skyrocketing prices, a strike, human rights violations, and hunger. How do you inspire hope for your country with your writing?My country has been in the economic intensive care for the past twenty years now and people have suffered enough and has 
some people lost lives in the process. My writings continue to give courage to the masses, to invoke dialogue but now our 
people no longer read as much, most of them  are busy hunting for food and other upkeep materials. Readership culture has 
fallen apart. Things have fallen apart, but I want to assure you, one thing, Zimbabweans are a resilient humanity, 
they thrive in this economic struggle. It pains me to see masses scavenging for dear life in other countries while the 
economic wealth is enjoyed by the few. It stinks really. I have written a lot of new poems. And I have developed a new 
writing style through social media platforms reading communities are reading through and there is some feedback as well. 
So even so, we write still, we read still, we speak still, Time heals and Freedom from Corruption and politically caused 
poverty shall end. I am also completing a Chapbook on my nasty experiences during COVID 19 lockdowns and the farce of exile. 
A lot of my writings is froth for change, freedom, resistance and resilience on digital thickets across the globe. You are the creative director of Girl Child Creativity and Festival. Can you share with the readers what this is.Girl child creativity is a project designed to mitigate under-representation and unbalanced participation of young 
female writers/poets in areas of creative writing, literature, literacy and poetry performance development.
It further enhances the ability of the girl child to develop herself mentally - the motto is: freedom of mental 
media air waves for community development. A creative nation is a developed nation. The project featured a lot of 
writers and arts activities in schools, out of school communities and in colleges, we also partnered with the 100 
thousand poets for change global founded by Michael ROTHENBURG to hold the first of its kind  GirlCHILD talent Festival 
in 2013 and 2014. We have produced and inspired  great talent that is practicing its chores across Africa and the world, 
we drilled talent in more than 20 schools and this project now has involved into the now most popular WOMAWORDS LITERARY PRESS 
to continue further the empowerment  sister's creative energies through digital spaces and platforms. We aim to feature 
more than a 1000 artists, writers, leaders and activists from Africa and abroad. We believe that every revolution begins with WORD. Talk about being curator for "Brave Voices Poetry Journal." When did you start this?  When I got into exile, I thought it was and is vital to continue the struggle in a different way, to start a virtual 
program that would strengthen the literary activism revolution that I had already lit. So I started the platform online 
on Facebook through the 100 Thousand Poets for Zimbabwe an affiliate to the Zimbabwe We Want Poetry Campaign and 100 
Thousand Poets for Change Global. The project got a wide response from many young voices in Zimbabwe, Africa and abroad, 
so I began compiling  poetry by brave voices every fortnight that we then sent to Tuck Magazine in Canada for archiving, 
I had then negotiated a content archiving deal with Michael Val Tuck, the Founder of Tuck Magazine. Sometime in December 2018, 
the Brave Voices  became  a full-fledged and a globally known activity by young voices that we later  hosted on 
MIOMBOPUBLISHING another online space I founded and is also archiving TIME OF THE POET DIGITAL SERIES with most 
popular offing  SECOND NAME OF EARTH IS PEACE, #GLOBAL CALL FOR PEACE PROJECT that saw the featuring of more than 
50 poets from around the globe. We have produced so far more than 60 issues of BRAVE VOICES POETRY JOURNAL since 
inception and the voices are strong and are shaking the walls of JERICHO. For Womawords, you interview many women poets giving them a voice and a place to talk about their work. 
I learned about many new writers because of this site. How have these writers enriched your life? What have you learned by these interviews?It is a beautiful project I founded in 2019 through my Fellowship with the International Human Rights Art Festival. 
I wanted to use the quarterly grant I got from the IHRAF Fellowship to do something different. I found it worth some 
to involve girlchild creativity into WOMAWORDS LITERARY PRESS. Yes the interviews and prolific writings abound has 
influenced my career in a positive way, I have learnt whipping  out copy or manuscripts, I am still learning, learning 
is a process is not event, beating and working according  to deadlines, to be true in everything I do and respect women 
artists and especially those who have with themselves the zeal in them to change the world, to shape their communities 
in a very different, those see their voices bringing freedom and success promise. The project has taught me patience and 
communication etiquette and more advanced creative skills. I have since improved in my work presentation, writing and 
delivery, it's a beautiful process as much it requires the tenacity, due diligence and resilience. You have written articles for Cultural Weekly. What article stands out with you and why?Cultural Weekly is a great literary experience and I thank fellow writer and Curator Adam Leizipeg at Cultural Weekly 
for affording me the golden opportunity to be read widely, it's heartening in a positive way to see your writings read 
by people across the world. I am excited and humbled that you also passed through my column at Cultural Weekly. These 
are some of the outstanding articles of mine at Cultural Weekly  
    Everything Remembers in Michael Dickel's Nothing Remembers, a critical review.Talking in Poetic Tongues. Jongwe's Fist: Mugabe and His Magic of Paradox  POETIVISM, a new art of resistance in Zimbabwe. Other articles are also good  but it depends on the angle 
	and theme of any given work. In 2020, you received the Freedom of Speech Literary Activism Culture Fellow at PEN-Deutschland, 
Germany, Poet in Residence at the Fictional Cafe. Congratulations to you. What has this experience been like?  I am greatly humbled and of course excited when afforded an opportunity a scholarship/fellowship to write, 
to express and to weild the pen, a weapon of mass instruction. Its strengthens me, it cultivates, it evokes 
the poetic tiger in me. It settles in me the promise to remain defending, speaking for the voiceless and my 
people through literary arts activism. It is greatly important to have more organizations that supports writers 
in exile, writers at risk, free speech, artists at risk and defenders. I  want to take this wonderful opportunity 
to thank the Vice President of Writers in Exile PEN-Zentrum Deutschland Leander Sukov, 
the Writers in Exile Commissioner, the Writers in Exile Project Head Sandra Weires-Guia 
and the whole PEN-Zentrum Deutschland board for affording  me an opportunity to continue 
defending rights with free speech And literary arts activism with great support. It humbles 
me greatly, the struggle continues we write still. Yes the Fictional Cafe, I am working with 
Jack B Rochester, the Baristas and the editorial team, they have created my page as their 
Poet in residence. I have read submissions sometime last where I helped to make choices on 
the publication, yes of course for you to get the Poet IN RESIDENCE role, you have to be 
outstanding and a refined poetry barista. Its great taking part in great literary initiatives 
for they continue shape us and hone our career. I thank you greatly.   
 Who inspired you to write essays?I began by writing realist fiction inspired by Richard Yates; then narrative memoir inspired by Frank Conroy, 
where I dramatized "about-ness" and was sometimes misread as being "too personal." In my collection SAFE SUICIDE: 
NARRATIVES, ESSAYS, AND MEDITATIONS, I started using central symbols or topics as a kind of lattice that framed emotions, 
such as my essay on "Gravity," which was partly inspired by Tim O'Brien's device of listing the physical weight of things 
carried by soldiers in order to describe their moral and spiritual baggage. I also loved Thoreau's way in WALDEN of leading 
readers to explore a topic such as "Economy." I pushed this lattice idea still farther in my new collection, 
SWEET MARJORAM: NOTES AND ESSAYS. I focus on laden moral topics-topics that seem at best tired, and at worst empty in the 
era of Trump. The idea of human dignity, for instance, as we debate assisted suicide, "the right to choose," or immigration 
policies. The idea of empathy ("surrounded by and blessed by larger hearts than my own," I write, "I wonder if I suffer 
from 'empathy deficiency disorder'...I hang up on charity calls"). I wonder about dreams, American and otherwise. The idea 
of silence. The ideas of privilege and oppression ("Aesthetic distance...where readers have no chance to intervene, is 
different from social distance, where...in small acts and large, we can reject oppression and take our place in a braver, 
more generous world"). The mysteries of conscience. Of courage. I keep my reflections brief, associational and fragmentary, 
more like poems. My models became Hamlet's soliloquies as well as Stephen Dedalus's stream of consciousness and the rambling 
associations of Montaigne's essays. Half-mocking conventional form, I invented a form, where the fun is in "the act of the 
mind finding what will suffice." I do my best to weigh our beliefs and our collective wisdoms against both personal example 
and what I can learn and absorb from language, imagination, and the findings and theories of science. I feel that I am an average, sentient, thoughtful person in a universe of human expertise beyond my grasp, an expertise that merges with mystery. 
I try to be well-informed. I weigh the dialectics and obligations, and I'm responsible for choices. I hope I lead the reader 
to deliberate and choose also; and to find fun, surprise, and beauty in the process. When did you know you wanted to do it for a living? At 8, I wanted to be a G-man; at ten, an executive like my father. At twelve a newspaper man and printer, like Ben Franklin. 
I was divided in my senior year of high school between working for a printing company and going to college. I chose college, 
where my writing was praised, I studied English literature, and edited the college literary magazine for three years. 
If there were no draft, I may have pursued a New York career in magazine publishing for livelihood; as it was, I 
continued on to graduate school in English, confident that I would find a teaching job, but when I finished my PhD, 
there was a depression in the humanities. I taught composition as an adjunct, worked on a novel, started Ploughshares 
fifty years ago as a volunteer with other writers in The Plough and Stars, a local pub, married a Head Start teacher, 
built up the magazine and lived on grants, until I was hired full-time at Emerson in 1982. I wrote and edited for love, 
never for a living. Who or what influences your work now? Shakespeare, forever. But the wired media has also offered me, now in my seventies, a seemingly infinite store of 
references. In addition, I have renewed access to my print library. After emptying my Emerson office, I built walls 
of bookshelves at home. Many of my books had been boxed for storage, now they faced me like forgotten friends. As I 
free-associated on a given topic, I could revisit memorable authors and relate their meanings to the topic and my life. 
I could follow my whims and instincts. That was freeing, outside of classroom teaching. It may also have grown from my 
earlier editing of anthologies and from the editorial dialectics of Ploughshares. I feel some affinity with 
David Shields's Reality Hunger: A Manifesto (2010). I enjoy the collage approach that Shields invoked, both in 
poetry and prose, as well as his own mental sprezzatura. Since finishing SWEET MARJORAM, I've 
gravitated towards writing poems-like-essays rather than the other way around. My models have been Eliot, 
Frost and Lowell, and the work of friends and colleagues including John Skoyles, Bill Knott, Thomas Lux, 
Joyce Peseroff, Gail Mazur, Seamus Heaney, and many others from my Ploughshares years. What are the challenges and joys of editing an online website/press? At best, online magazines are communities of far-flung readers, writers, influencers, and editors. One edits, of 
course, at home, on a screen, keeping hours at will. The pleasure is always discovery, and the mission of widening 
the tunnel vision of trade publishing and culture. The economics and immediacy of online publishing widens opportunity 
for both readers and writers. There are many niches and room for innovation. Novelist Sandra Tyler began 
The Woven Tale Press ( https://www.thewoventalepress.net/about-3/ ) as a monthly magazine that is at once a 
literary journal and an art publication, with full-color graphics. She began it in 2013, and once long ago 
having been my intern at Ploughshares, she asked me on as a contributing editor in 2016. The format, quality, 
and professionalism caught my imagination and I've worked on the prose side of it ever since. At first I wrote 
a regular column where I reviewed online resource sites for writers, ranging from places to publish to places 
to learn about editors and agents or to find model writers' websites. Since 2018, I've served as Prose Editor and 
enjoyed the variety and excellence of unsolicited submissions, which we respond to within a few weeks. 
The discoveries of writers new to me is my greatest joy, along with watching our community and readership grow.   
 
 Bury Me in the Sky by Sara ComitoNixes Mate Books, March 2020
 Review by Anne Elezabeth Pluto
 May 8, 2020
  Sara Comito's debut collection invites the reader into a world divided into five spaces, where we are the mosquito in 
the amber looking out from the beautiful but permanent line joining life and death.  
The pull of each poem's magnificent lines can be summed up in her poem "A Charming Rub":             Even in its mating does a wolfknow the taste of foal-
 newly standing, newly felled.
 Each poem reminds us of this brutal dichotomy - an alchemical marriage in nature that is always life and death.  
In the "In Tidal": the horizon curves dizzingly for our floating -  and we float through the poems as "Iodine" is 
the heaviest element and "Spill" where Comito is heir to Elizabeth Bishop: seeing the clown grimace of grouper.  
It is an unexpected catch, the biggest fish I've ever had on. Comito's book is a "catch" - these are the poems to read as we move through social distancing, quarantine, and 
uncertainty of COVID 19.  We are: in cobalt twilight the whole, world wants to scream - are you touched or just simple.   
She demands in "Vengeance":             I wantyour tears
 as verses
 useless
 as semen
 spent
 in grass.
 Comito's poems are lessons for the reader. We learn in "Permission to Expand" :             If you can work on your posture - you can workon anything
 In "The Flea Market Sells Our Sacred Origins From Under Us" we learn that our sacred origins disappear in the 
preposterous liquidations of human epoch.  Exactly where we are now. In "If Blake Had Only Known" we learn that Sundardan Tigers - too much salt in the diet has unpredictable effects.  
The tigers burn bright and eat humans. In "Religion at the City Pier":             Some things get bigger over time, others shrink with theEvolution. Some just sag under the surface for finding.
 In "Night in the Tropics" we feel the heat and distance of nature - see what humans have built to disturb the alchemical balance.             High rises spring uplike teeth - as we
 finally inhale -
 false mountains
 and a moon drips
 off the page.
 Comito's images drip off the page and stay with us.  Ever present are the relationships between "felled" objects - In "Overdone" 
The speaker address the other:             You were felled thing tooAnd I was the bereaved.
 In "Microscopic" the speaker allows us into their young self - haunted by everything antediluvian:             everything that lived still a coelacanthuntil one pulls one up
             what to ask of history             when it looks you in the eye? What are we asking if history now in the age of new born plagues -              Dust dances like a devil.It always does.
 In the title poem "Bury me in the Sky" we slide backwards -             Hold tight to the dream With the balled fists
 Of an infant. Prayer flag tatter
 As bald griffons in search
 Of those things earth
 Loves to offer sky - life
 That fed now feeds
 And is carried as mudra.
 Perhaps the mudra which is her poem "Dedication":             For dead dogsand stolen children
 a special heaven
 with rubber balls
 and each other.
 In the last section, Sargasso, the book spirals down, standing us on our heads in "Pristine Creature"             The edge of a bridgecarries up the rain
 a slate tombstone to the sky.
 In the poem "Sargasso" the portal becomes stronger:             My heart is a shadows of cloudstin vapors hiding in the sun.
 My heart is horizon
 a peeling back of the skin of day.
 ...
             You are neither destination nor originbut Sargasso - a swirling eye of ocean,
 that confounds the efforts
 of all my sweating, displaced natives.
 The dead keep returning and we must welcome them, in "Husk of a Whale"             I loved you like a war zone in haunted,full of unknowing dead.  A leviathan
 Isn't supposed to die: get big as a 16-wheeler
 And you set an example. Rivers traverse
             counties inlaid by slavery and ill-financedrailroads; the tracks still birth flowers
 Of bees...
             ...its bell consigned to rust, the bonesof its shadows mined like phosphate grants
 purchase on shifting sand....
             Beaches, a husk of whale, onceThe fossils tell us, they were mammoths.
 The fossils the key; the reader must be aware of the proof of the alchemical marriage - the actual mosquito in the amber. In "Dark Island Landing" we go back to the antediluvian past -              In the forest edge darkThe god screeches.
 the frogs
 the night lilies
 the open throated
 children to the suckling sky
 Expertly, in her final poem - "All There Is" Comito, a beekeeper, bring us back to the beginning of the book.  
Her first poem "Sweet Formincation":             if there's poetry in this sackingit's food meant for one queen has
 at least gone to another.
 Her final poem "All There Is":  
Ruin your eyes             it always comes back to the mother             somehow.             We are not equipped todeal with speeding trains, that step
 off the platform always on skirting
 of two unknowns.
 The two queens - one must leave - the mating wolf and her thoughts, her mouth tasting newly felled foal.  
And, the mare, the mother who knows that terrible scene that may come.             The relief of meeting with something solid.  Let them step over my fetal
 form.  All the subway police need to know.
             here is all there is. Bury me in the Sky is a compelling haunting book.  Nature, history, geography, life, and  death.  
All of it is precious; perhaps now more than ever.   
 Cervena Barva Press StaffGloria Mindock, Editor & PublisherFlavia Cosma, International Editor
 Helene Cardona, Contributing Editor
 Andrey Gritsman, Contributing Editor
 Juri Talvet, Contributing Editor
 Renuka Raghavan, Fiction Reviewer, Publicity
 Karen Friedland, Interviewer
 Gene Barry, Poetry Reviewer
 Miriam O' Neal, Poetry Reviewer
 Annie Pluto, Poetry Reviewer
 Christopher Reilley, Poetry Reviewer
   
   
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