kate greenstreet
kate at kickingwind dot com
about
some poems online
scheduled readings

case sensitive: get it here

first-book & other interviews: here

blogs:

537neon
ada limon
almost i rushed from home...
a. lobster
adam clay
amy king's blog
anachronizms
andrea baker
a peek of reach
a poet's eyes
a sad day for sad birds
asthma chronicles
a tonalist notes
avoiding the muse
awfully serious
aye, wobot!
bachelardette
bemsha swing
big window
black and white
the blind chatelaine's poker poetics
bloggedy blog blog
blonde on blonde
boarding parties
bob marcacci
books, inq.
both both
brandon brown
brazier & inkstone
the burning chair
caconrad
cahiers de corey
can of corn
caterina.net
catherine daly's blog
charles bernstein's weblog
chaxblog
chicago postmodern poetry
chicana poetics
chicks dig poetry
clay matthews
conchology
croissant factory
cosmopoetica/cpb
coursing public thought
critical fiction
cruelest month
culture industry
da-crouton
dagzine
dbqp: visualizing poetics
the delay
desert city
the dishwasher's tears
DIY poetics
DIY publishing
do gummi bears dream...
dumbfoundry
elsewhere
epistle whipped
equanimity
esther press
e-x-c-h-a-n-g-e-v-a-l-u-e-s
the exquisite corpse
eyeball hatred 
fait accompli
fewer & further
flowers that gloze
frank sherlock
fringe matters
geneva convention
ghostbrain
hammer loop
harlequin knights
heatstrings
here comes everybody
heuriskein
hg poetics
home-schooled by a cackling jackal
hounds of no
hum and ash
humanophone
hyacinth losers
i am yer grammer
i'll show you mine
immoweth
imprimatur
the ingredient
in place of chairs
iron caisson
ironstone whirlygig
isola di rifiuti
ivy is here
jacob's ladder
jane dark's sugarhigh!
jeannine blogs
jewishyirishy
jim behrle
kaya oakes
kinemapoetics
largehearted boy
lemon hound
lisablog
lime tree
litbyfire
little red's recovery room
lit up like the blood of a centerfold
litwindowpane
looktouchblog
lorcaloca
lorna dee cervantes
the lovely arc
lutheran surrealism
mappemunde
maximum go...
micawberesque
michelle detorie
million poems
minimalist concrete poetry
minor american
modern americans
morescotch
mr. tong bliss' journal
muisti kirja
my maserati
narcissusworks
the neglectorino project
never mind the beasts
nice guy syndrome
nikuko
noah eli gordon
nomadics
notes from a fellow traveler
nothing to say and saying it
now then
odalisqued
open reader
overlap
paul hoover's blog
the pangrammaticon
pantaloons: tykes on poetry
peek thru the pines
philly sound
plight of the troubadour
poetaensanfrancisco
poetry hut
poesy galore
poets' corner
postcards from the imagination
postmodern collage poetry
pseudopodium
pshares blog
pudgy pigeon enterprises
pugnacious pinoy
qbdp: the mailartworks
radish king
reader of depressing books
red slowly
reli[e]able signs
riverfall
rob mclennan's blog
rocket kids
rue hazard
said like reeds or things
saintelizabethstreet
samizdat blog
sam of the ten thousand things
say something wonderful
secret mint
serif of nottingham
shanna compton's blog
shikow
silliman's blog
slicker chumway's
snapper's effing junk(boat)heap
so and so series
spooks by me
stamped & metered flying fish
starnosedmole
steve's house of love
the steinach operation
swoonrocket
texfiles in bahrain
they shoot poets don't they?
third factory/notes/lipstick of noise
this is all your fault
this morning in poetry
tom raworth's notes
transsubmutation
twenty thousand thousand
ululations
understory
union square poetry series
the unquiet grave
venepoetics
virgin formica
voices in utter dark
voix off
the well-nourished moon
we've been talked down
whimsy speaks
whirligig
wild horses of fire
wood s lot
the word cage
the world a letter
yes, starlings! yes!
you are here
ysleta poeta
zach barocas
<[[[[[[-[[[[0{:}0]]]]-]]]]]]>
.oar.

journals/small press/reviews:

1913
6 X 6
action yes
alice blue
apocryphaltext
barrow street
belladonna books
big game
bird dog
blazevox
black lodge press
black ocean press
boog city
bookforum
bookslut
braincase press
the brooklyn rail
calamari press
the canary
cannibal
carve
chax press
circumference
coconut
coldfront magazine
conduit
the constant critic
cue
the cultural society
cutbank
cy gist press
cy press
diagram
the duplications
dusie
effing press
eoagh
fascicle
faux press e chapbooks
fewer & further press
frame
free verse
frequency
galatea resurrects
gong press
gutcult
half empty/half full
hot whiskey press
jacket
h_ngm_n
the happy booker
the hat
hooke press
horse less press
house press
how2/barbara guest memory bank
jacket
katalanche press
kitchen press
konundrum engine
kulture vulture
la petite zine
lit
melancholia's tremulous dreadlocks
milk
mipoesias
new pages
no
no tell motel
octopus
octopusbooks
onedit
outside voices
the page
parakeet
pettycoat relaxer
poetry 365
the poker
portable press at yo-yo labs
practice: new writing + art
rain taxi
realpoetik
rhino
rhubarb is susan
rose metal press
rust buckle
saint elizabeth street
shampoo
skanky possum
sleepingfish
sona books
spell
the tiny
tool a magazine
three candles
transmission press
typo
ugly duckling presse
unpleasant event schedule
vert
wintered press
wire sandwich
womb
word for/word
xantippe
zafusy

selby's list

audio/radio/video:

AudibleWord.Org
Factory School audio archives  
Kelly Writers House webcasts
Laurable
LINEbreak
miPOradio
my vocabulary  
Naropa archives
PENNsound
UbuWeb

30 JAN 06
She said she'd found herself at the table--maybe an hour had passed, or two, the light had changed--listing the words inside the words "Pictures come back to me," her mind a fury of searching, suddenly promised language from this odd source and, in the rearranged letters, relief from a thousand snapshots. It was as though the pain of her inability to help the other woman, or any of the women and girls, was eased somehow in making these cramped lists.                        [click image below to see a page]

She wants to paint the words into the just-stretched canvas--to layer the lists with leaves she's saved, pressed between pages of phonebooks for years, "for later."

Sometimes there's a word written down that can't be used, for lack of a letter. "No L" it says beside a few crossed out.

blame no L   lock no L   talk no L

She said her chest felt like it had been scraped clean with a rake. Coke, memo, sum, some, samurai, cadmium, comma, coma, tubes, tuba, breast, brim, use, upstream.

"You can't get rid of smoke by pouring water on it. We don't have any water anyway." (Looking at her page, on which there's smoke but no fire, ice but no water.)

Later, when we were walking, I could see she was spelling, in her mind, things that we were saying--listening and talking but also spelling words out, and from time to time writing one down, if the letters were right.

28 JAN 06

It only takes 20 minutes. But you've got to have it, you've got to use it, and you've got to remember.

26 JAN 06


Last night I received from Janet her design draft of the pages of case sensitive. Seeing the text transformed reminded me a little of the first time I saw my youngest brother in an expensive suit. Wasn't he a kind of biker-looking guy with a missing tooth and a long ponytail, like a minute ago?

24 JAN 06

Why do people photograph? How does photography--intentional, casual, chance--affect the way we learn, think, contemplate, feel, act and interact in the moment? What is public, what is private, what is both? (lens culture, link via wood s lot)

PS: Lately I've been fooling around with the "click on the image, keep clicking & you'll get back to the start" idea--the first long one (4 clicks) is at 8 JAN 06. (First short story here.) Not every image leads to another, but sometimes I want to supply a little more information. Like Philip Winter, I'm no photographer. I've been thinking about photography because I'm taking photos. Not sure why. "Have I said it before? I am learning to see." (RMR)

22 JAN 06

At some point after I'd stopped taking photos with the 35mm, my grandmother acquired a polaroid camera. (The house with the black bathroom had been sold, and I never made another darkroom, though I carted my cheap enlarger from place to place for years).

I thought of Gran's camera last night when Max & I looked at the beginning of Alice in the Cities. It's a film I've seen many times, and one I need to see every so often. It provides a kind of rest that boils down to a feeling of belonging.

What I liked most about polaroids was watching the image slowly collect, similar to the way an image comes up in the developing pan in the darkroom.

In the movie, the character Phillip Winter is supposed to be writing an article about "the American scene" but mainly he's been driving from one state to the next, shooting polaroids. He isn't a photographer and he's missed his deadline. He's making notes in a notebook, but he has no story. He just has the pictures.

"about things you can see... The reason why I shot so many pictures is part of my story."

20 JAN 06

"I have never been interested in making a photograph that describes what the world I live in looks like, but I am interested in what pictures (of the world) look like. I am interested in the conventions of picture making, in the desire to picture the world and in our relationship, our continual love for and fascination with pictures." (Uta Barth)

18 JAN 06

We have again spent wonderful days together, we the "family." We had a wonderful time skating. And today they took me past the little lonely church to which people can come to pray only on ice skates. (Modersohn-Becker to Rilke, 10 January 1901*) (&*)

I've been working on the final this-is-it version of case sensitive. Tomorrow the manuscript leaves my hands for my publisher's hands. Certain commas have been removed and reinstated more times than I'm willing to admit. So much buried in the text! Only two quotations from Paula Modersohn-Becker remain. When I started writing the book, I thought she would be visible on every page. Her love of the ice! (The ice is visible.)

Actually letting the manuscript go, allowing it to be done, is harder than I thought it would be. The lingering sore throat seems not entirely coincidental.

16 JAN 06

"I dreamed you and I were living in the past, I could tell by the clothes."

"Turn here." He trusted her to drive.

"I can show you on the map. The small streets. It already happened."

The way the miles collect.

"Your lack of costume is a costume in itself." She was having trouble with the decades. The sun in which they finally slept was unseasonably hot.

. . . . . . . .

eod current
archives index