An interview with Ed Sanders, as conducted by KC Orcutt and Chad Lowther for Barzakh. CL: In Investigative Poetry you said, “If a man or a woman does not live/ in the thought that he or she/ is a history, he or she/ is not capable of/ himself or herself,” (26). How might this statement relate to a poet’s involvement in connection to his or her local scene, and to a broader community of poets? ES: Part of what I call “time-tithing” is to take time out of the electromagnetic distractions to study your local “scene,” your local government— town level, for instance— and acquire a better level of knowledge, so as to figure out what is really going on. Make notes— open up chronological and alphabetical files say, on a local issue such as water quality, or lack of a recycling program, or Meals-on-wheels, or your town’s programs for youth, and keep track of things, but also bring in your own life, keep a journal on relating to the local scene, as well as the local literary world— how it all Coheres. Be sure to date and number all note pages, and spend enough time to organize research files so that, in the future, they are instantly readable, understandable, and usable. CL: How might an investigative poetics be enacted through modes of discourse other than poetry? ES: Well, investigation techniques involve taking photos, taping interviews, making videos, preparing Question Lists, and keep voluminous journals and notes— then the trick in Investigative Poetry is to turn those “raw” files into line breaks, and verse. I always say start writing your fresh observations and note files— in their first versions, into poesy, or line-break clusters. CL: Considering your stated enthusiasm for Egyptian mythology, and thinking also of Olson’s devotion to the study of the Mayans, in what ways is the idea of the poem’s function in distilling historical data sympathetic to ancient image-based systems of communication? ES: The Glyph, ancient and modern, is strongly affixed to the recent Rise of the Visual, and a Good Glyph can assist wonderfully in the distillation of good poetry: as in what Basil Bunting told Ezra Pound: “dichten=condensare.” CL: These subjects of study, however, are both removed from, and, perhaps, at odds with the cultural experience that is familiar to the investigator. How then might the poet or the community look to an investigate poetics as a means of exploring itself, of calling its own values and practices into question, or as a means of documenting its own existence? ES: Poetry is just another method of annotating the Time-Flow. Investigative Poetry, as I originally envisioned it, would provide a fact-based way of improving the economic benefits to its practitioners, as well as helping to “mine” the Absolute Data Flood that has been prevalent now since at least the mid-1960s arrival of the cassette tape recorder, and the 1970s arrival of the video recorder.
CL: Investigative Poetry seems to provide the poet with a means of defending both herself and the important values of her culture from acts of violence designed to uphold convention, and acts of convention committed against non-normative culture. In what way is a community’s awareness of its own, and of surrounding circumstances necessary to the success of an investigative poetics? ES: Well, one way to hide from a hostile uberculture would be to commingle the ancient concept of the Dithyramb with stark modern fact-based Investigative Poetry techniques. With poetry, you are “performing” for an audience say 200 years from now anyway, as well as for the often toofew who scan your stuff in an on-line website or limited-run broadside. KCO: During the 13 issue run of Fuck You did you ever contemplate compiling and printing a volume of the issues? Did you have a wider truth or theory behind your editorial role of “printing anything,” or was it literally that simple? ES: I never wanted to publish a volume of the complete run. I liked, during the time of the magazine, 1962-1965 to sandwich poetry by acquaintances such as those who would hang out at my Peace Eye Bookstore with the “great” writers who were sending me poetry to publish, such as Olson, Duncan, Ginsberg, Malina, Wakoski, DiPrima, et al. There was still a lot of censorship going on in the U.S.A., so my cry “I’ll print anything” had more import than if I uttered it today. KCO: There’s an exclusivity with the small press that makes for several interesting circumstances, including limited readership, as well as the ever-present challenge of continuing. Did you want to keep the distribution small (and free) in preservation of the allure of the small press, or did you ever see it growing as a wide-ranging series? ES: How many people actually read the poetry in small press publications? 500? (If you’re lucky). “The ever-present challenge of continuing.” Sometimes when you give up a run of publishing something, you can shout “Hallelujah! No more angry poets whose poems you reject! No more hustling to raise money! No more depleting your savings account! No more boxes of back issues behind the bed!” On the other hand, there’s nothing quite like editing, compiling, designing, making image and photo selections, pasting it up, and then receiving a Fresh Issue from the printer! KCO: Do you see a place for small presses in today’s world or do you think the industry will devalue publication with the wide array and accessibility of Internet publishing? ES: As long as there are Rebel Cafés where poets, dreamers, novelists, inventors, painters, etc gather together; or even on-line poesy discussion sites, there will be Small Presses. KCO: How do you consider your works in America A History in Verse? Prose history, poetry, or a creative catalog? ES: History in verse.
KCO: The vigorous and expansive range of historical content in this work specifically also mentions your own involvement in the time, such as in Vol. 2 where you mention Ginsberg living down the street and for one example, “with him we founded the Committee to Legalize Marijuana,” – was this inevitable? ES: It’s not enough to read the Best Minds of Your Generation, it’s also very useful to hang out with, even kill time with, the Best Minds of Your Generation. KCO: Did you want to remain detached from the work or was there a conscious choice to be subtly connected where poetry itself was the best use of language? ES: Poetry allows a confused, loner, unselfconfident egomaniac— nervous, irritable, shambly, confused, nail-biting, wanderlusty— to create a Wall of Silence between his/her poesy and the Rest of the World. KCO: How did you filter out what data and events to include, and what to pass by? ES: It’s the old Negative Capability letter of John Keats. You have to say no to tens of thousands of whizzing-by facts before you say yes to one or two, and then figure out how to place them aptly into the Data Cluster. KCO: How does the relationship between private and public history influence poetry? ES: Well, it goes back to the quote from Olson about daring to make yourself part of the Flow of History. You can’t be like Zelig and place yourself stupidly into the throes of the Time Track, but you can aptly and honestly mention your place. KCO: How did you differentiate the desire to seek out information from the point of view as a poet from that of an investigative journalist? ES: The proof is in the line, and the creation of euphonious, interesting and even now and then thrilling clusters of lines, which trace with accuracy the items of time you are describing. KCO: How do you balance your creativity in your writing with being concise such as inAmerica? ES: You could write a two-thousand page book on almost anything by downloading and sequencing material from the Internet. That’s why I’ve thought of a new Muse, called Condensare, and another muse called Sequentia— both of which make it possible, through condensing/distilling, and through apt sequencing, to create text which is possible to be read by distracted, overly-excited, nervous readers. KCO: How does preparing to perform differ from your writing process? ES: Need a clean shirt.