UP SHIT’S CREEK WITH NO SENSE OF SMELL
Continue to contaminate your bed, and you will one day suffocate in your own waste.
—Chief Seattle to President Franklin Pierce, 1854
—from Rattle #26, Winter 2006
Nina Corwin: “Having played jazz guitar for many years, I found my way back to poetry by way of the music and dynamism of the performance poetry scene. A few years later, I moved across the street from the main branch of the Chicago library. Racks and racks of poetry waiting for my eyes and tongue to discover and devour them, a veritable feast! And so I proceed: to eat and to cook, to cook and to eat.” (web)