With one glance, you knew
we were
people deficient in everything—gunpowder and gold,
naked as newborns. And it was true,
we were lacking
……………in dysentery and paranoia,
and we were terribly unadvanced
……………when it came to killing other humans. But we aren’t anymore.
So quickly you claimed us
like terra firma,
like the Earth that carries you, repaid only in boot-marks.
We saved you,
……………gave you
our corn and told you our names.
Mine is Samoet. You called me Isabella.
– Angelica Esquivel
…
Jim Curtis received his PhD from Columbia University and taught for 31 years at the University of Missouri. He now lives in Pennsylvania with his wife and a much-loved poodle, Alfie. The origin of Decoding Dylan, his current book, goes back to his early years in Tupelo, Mississippi, when he had the chance to see Elvis Presley perform live. That was a life-changing experience that gave him his lasting love of rock and roll, and the great rock stars such as Bob Dylan.
In this episode of Cover to Cover with . . ., Editor-in-Chief Jordan Blum and Curtis go in-depth about Dylan’s cultural impact and inspirations, as well his links to other artists, Curtis’ process for completing the book, and more!
My head is underground having its gray crystal day knowing where a dark is left on for all the seeking. I can only stay behind some holiness and think of all those whose forgiving hands I feel, my ears close to the mycorrhizae loving time. Even I came down here looking for the kiss I wanted and instead found the crying stone that smelled me in its sleep, I wanted to be known. You who have suffered, I dig my bones for you: scrawled on calcium language a hard- ness so gentle it eats rain night after night so you don’t have to. You have my blessing. Just bring a firefly beauty to my face sometime so I know you were thinking of me.
Growing up in
1980s Southern California, I had the requisite skater boyfriend who was into
the punk metal band Suicidal Tendencies. I never really liked their music, but
the name got stuck in my brain. It offers insight into the minds of folks who
struggle, and sometimes lose, the battle with depression. For anyone who read
the news this year, I am talking about the high profile suicides of Kate Spade
and Anthony Bourdain. I am also talking about the friend of a friend who
brought life to an end the same week. I am talking about my best friend, Monika
Lilia, who jumped off a cliff at age 43. I am talking about me.
Before any of my family or friends begin to panic, I am fine.…
There is a man shaking my
hand outside the
Chinese Theater. Pumping it, just shaking vigorously
and with great excitement. He marched up to me a moment ago, here on
Hollywood Boulevard, grinning and waggling his
eyebrows. Ah ha ha, he says. It’s perfect. You’ve done it right. You’re his
twin!
I mean, he continues, the
Spider Man, sure, the Elvis, yes, the Marilyn. We expected to see all of them.
And they’re all sort of piss-poor, just disappointing. But you, you could be
the real deal!
Nothing he says gives me a
clue as to what he’s talking about. He hands me a dollar.
You’ve earned it, he says.
Then he asks to take his
photo with me. Everybody snaps pictures of me. People press themselves next to
me and wrap their arms around my shoulders, grinning at cameras, pointing their
fingers at me.…
I can’t begin to guess about how many years it’s been since I’ve thought about my parents: how my father swung his belt for small infractions. I felt the leather but didn’t see myself as heroic— I was a little boy, not Ornytus in The Aeneid, but sometimes I couldn’t remember my name the next day. I was a traveler on a treacherous journey, a kid in a continuous crime scene, an angry victim. Two damaged strangers owned the slowest part of my entire life, and I think about something, something else I’ve told myself: I wonder whether I’d have shined brighter if lovely people had raised me in another family, earlier in the century, if my sophisticated mother would have played vinyl Coltrane, telling me, When you listen to him, your heart shatters. …
Jessica Simpkiss is a published poet and fiction writer who resides in Virginia Beach with her husband and young daughter. Her debut novel, The Spaewife’s Secret, was released in November of 2018 via Solstice Publishing and revolves around a man who returns home to his remote island following the death of his estranged mother and is forced to face the real and imagined ghosts he left behind. Her second novel, Bone in the Blood, is forthcoming later this year. Please visit her website for more information on publications, release dates, and upcoming projects.
In this episode of Cover to Cover with . . ., Editor-in-Chief Jordan Blum speaks with Simpkiss about her novels, her publications with The Bookends Review, True Detective S3, Scottish folklore, and more!…
