Some days are better than none

(transcript)

Good morning and welcome to Talk Tonic on BMS
I am Abraham Noguise, today, we have a very special guest who you’re going to recognize. There are not a lot of legends in the poetry world – or I should say were not a lot of legends because of poetry’s death which I hope you all saw streamed live here on Talk Tonic a few weeks ago – but in the last forty years no one has contributed more or been as influential in the poetry world, while never writing a poem himself, but has had countless written around and about him, known as The Poet Whisperer, you know who I’m talking about now, The Line Spurter FERDINAND MUGGINS.

For forty years Mr. Muggins provided noncontextual lines, or SPURTS for all of the poets you have never heard of. At one point it was estimated that he had coined half of the content from the 1980s through the early 2000s up until this year – to poets who then contextualized those lines called spurts (spontaneous ur talk) into shapes you can recognize.

I indeed myself have tried my hand at a Ferdinand. At one time a much younger me wrote this… I’ll only read how it begins because if I tried to read all of it most of you would tune out. Here we go – and keep in mind there was once a thing called newspapers.

Ferdinand Muggins Reads the Sunday Paper

He logoleapt in
disappointed at every turn
the musty smell of the finance section
advice from miss rixatrix
editorial erectarines
cornobbled funnies…

And that’s all I’m going to recite. It gets worse from there. I should have based my poem on some of your spurtings rather than going it alone. Mr. Muggins, I am a huge fan and know many of your spurtings, have read countless articles, seen you on television, would recognize you anywhere, and it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person.

Thank you, Abraham. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.

Thank you gosh that gives me a warm fuzzy feeling. You weren’t the first to spurt that phrase were you?

No. No. I certainly wasn’t. (laughs)

A few weeks ago we had the last lost poet recite the last poem in human history. Have you had a chance to see it?

I haven’t. I’ll be sure to watch it sometime soon.

Well, I’m wondering if your handiwork can be found in it. The last lost poet did not credit you in any way. I know you’ve said in the past that you don’t care and anyone is welcome to your spurts but I am curious if he utilized any of them. I suspect he did. Would you like to take a look at it?

Sure I would love to. Let’s take a look. Yes pretty much all of this starting with

The Apocalyptic hip chicks
in all their empty splendor
wrapping their tiny arms around
an anatomic event…

That’s mine. Hmm. Yeah. I spurted the whole thing, non textually, as you say, or non contextual, at different intervals, ual text con, you.

That’s fantastic! Who then deserves the credit for these poems, you or the poet who took your spurts and worked them into form?

Nobody.

Oh yeah. I almost forgot. If a tree falls in a forest…

It gets back up again.

I think I’ve seen that before. Yours?

Mm hmm.

Did it make a sound?

No.

I thought not. What have you been doing since the end of poetry? Have you quit spurting?

Thank you for asking, Abe, I still spurt.

Do you? Why did you never turn your spurts into your own poetry?

I never really saw a reason to.

I suppose that makes sense. But when you first started out and poetry wasn’t dead yet you made quite a name for yourself. My producer, God bless her, has compiled a list of some of those early headlines and book titles that have been written about you and we’re going to get into some of those in a bit. I want to start with what to me most illustrates your having made it to legendary status and that is when Sam Hamill of Copper Canyon Press began a two year long campaign of trying to convince you to write some poems to be published by his press and went so far as to buy a billboard near your home to try to convince you AND at the same time he was running an expensive ad in the New York Times.

Quite out of character for Sam Hamill.

Very out of character and caused consternation within the ranks over there at the magazine thinking that he had gone crazy. God rest his soul.

That’s what I thought too.

But it sure solidified your place as a poet’s… I’m hesitating to use the word muse because I know you would scoff at that. Were you at any time almost convinced.

I wasn’t and I love Sam Hamill and Copper Canyon Press.

All right. Let’s get into some of these headlines from over the years we’ve compiled.

He spurts. They pose.

What do you remember about that?

Nothing.

Muggins Sneezes, Poets Win Pulitzers

Heh Heh. That’s an exaggeration.

There are a bunch of variations on that like

Muggins Burps, Poets Cry

and a little twist

Muggins Says “Oops,” Critics Hail It

Yeah. They milked it.

This next one… I’m not sure I understand it but it sounds good.


Echoes of Muggins: A Veritable Shmlinglopple

I do remember that one.

What does it mean?

I never spurted shmlinglopple.

I think it represents the rash of neologisms that you have been given credit for.

Blurgfelk was the famous one.

Poets Flock to Muggins’ Window, Hoping for a Single Syllable

True story.

There was some controversy in relation to all that. I’ll get to that in a moment. I love this next one.

The Mystery of Muggins: Is He a Muse or Just Really Bad at Small Talk?

Do you want to answer that?

Finally a critic I can get behind.

He Just Wanted Directions, They Left with a Masterpiece

Creative license.

Muggins Drops His Grocery List—It’s Already in Three Poetry Journals

Stop it.

As I alluded to a moment ago all of this has not gone by without some controversy. In fact, several fist fights have broken out around you and a person was stabbed and killed in your yard.

I’ve answered these questions before. I was heartbroken after that incident. I moved to a secret location because of it. I need to point out again that it had nothing to do with me or the poets in my yard. Trouble spilled off the streets and onto my property having nothing to do with me or poems. All the poets turned into good witnesses is what I heard. But still until poetry died for good just recently I have kept as low a profile as I could. I want to thank you for your part in killing poetry too, Abraham.

Whoa. I didn’t kill it. I just ask questions on a low rated podcast. Growing. We’re growing.

I’m glad to hear that. If I can be of help in any way just let me know.

Of course many headlines came out of that.

From Poetry to Bloodshed: The Madness of the Muggins Devotees

This is about where I began to dislike editors.

Poetry Is Dead. And Now, So Is a Poet

That publication was ahead of the curve. Also a lie, of course.

A Muse, A Murder, and a Mystery—The Dark Side of the Muggins Phenomenon

I never read that book.

I did. Twice.

Poetic Obsession Turns Deadly—Ferdinand Muggins’ Silence Under Scrutiny

The National Enquirer. Again I must stress this had nothing to do with me or poetry. Or anyone sleeping in my yard. Do you know what The Detroit Free Press wrote after a poetry festival there?

I have that one. I have that one.

Muggins Are Down

My all time favorite.

After some time the truth slowly came out…

Yeah but some people still believe it had something to do with me!

Some of the coverage changed

The Muse Mourns—But Not in Meter, So Does It Even Count?

That’s a good one. Who wrote that?

Uh let me look here… It was Pretend Genius Press.

Ah. Never heard of them.

He Finally Cares. The Poets Wish He Wouldn’t

That has a dash of truth. Poets were a funny lot.

Even though poetry is dead we have two headlines from the last couple of weeks:

Poetry Became Ashes, But Muggins Still Burns

The Empty Libraries Echo with the Spurts

You’re almost like Paul McCartney.

Don’t be silly.

You’re still spurting.

I do my best.

Will you spurt for us today?

Let me get comfortable. Usually I warm up a little. Hmmm Haaaa Itchhh
Shostakovich

something something kneelie meisters

Errgh Agghh
 
john foster dulles
Excuse me I'm not...
gentlemen cream pies
le main burp
who wants some more of this dancing with a short skirted and fat thighed scot?
nevertheless, the monkeys are gaining
i don’t end my sentences with periods. but then
now that i have your grunt tension
we didn’t come here to faint
my fingers are buzzing with the excitement of the ointment
form one two three
hike hitch
until test tube us part
zoo not for otters but dance in their wingtips
shirtlessly we flapped in the wind.
Ich werde moron den Kredit für das geben
We’ll always have buses and paper porn
My typing skills have reslly imporvewd
Lla Ls must be palced in the word improlpery
.click in in in to it in the in the in in in

click

click

thereererererererererererererererererererererererererererere you’re dead
therererererererererererererererererererererererererererererererere

i rubbed you out.

thererererre thererererererere therererererererererererere

you’re full of holes

thererererererererererererererererererererererererererereeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

there is no way you could have survived that

dodecahedron. crake. william blake. damage due to overheated gum plates. dollar bills. conservator testaments. notescurvy redemptions. rushed to distraction. analyptical meltdown. compelling nether races. settling pock marks. quicksilver hangnail interruptus. treacherous dividends.  trapezoidal consultations. pilchuck leavings. dew tort report. conditional suppressors. fur pecked tethers. tyrannical curvatures of intent. fanatical gestation process geese.  bluegrays and grips. dusking reds. insecure yellows growing bolder. er um excuse me, Abraham, it always gets me. arms. hands. thumbs. taptaptap. the purposeful slap. dies broke. yyyyyyy. bring your immense crowledge. listings of the leeds foreshore. morroccan clops. cake snails. dravidian mortimus. kiltmakers. plutonic suitcases. guilt ridden harrier bugs. arctic squash . questionable ethtics. curtailing the linear. a majestic presence in an uncomfortable seance. i am your greatest electrical fan. have a silent hamburger.